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Hi there ! I’ve just stumbled onto your art and I’m instantly obsessed with how you draw fnaf 🥰 I’d love to join your sticker club ! But I had a couple of questions.. do you ship to Australia by chance? And also wondering if the previous months stickers were available to buy at all? .3.
Yes I ship internationally and you can request for previous sets!! Just have to let me know on the pinned post on Patreon or shoot me a dm ^^
#ask reply#no extra cost or anything seeing I still have extra sets!#it’s the perk of being apart of the Patreon early in#the offer will last as long as I have extras 🙏🏾#after they run out they’ll probably be gone for a very long while#remember can join anytime during this month to get this February set!
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Ruben Dias x Reader - Fix You Part 4/10
+18
Part 5 and 6 are out on my Patreon!
Summary - Reader is hired as Ruben's assistant nurse after receiving head trauma during a football game. He has fallen into a deep depression on his road to recovery and does not accept much help from Reader as she only reminds him of how incapable he is.
Enjoy!
He should have never given you a day off, Ruben thought. You had been gone for hours, without telling anyone where you went. Ruben woke up that morning to an empty apartment. Okay, Max was there but he was an early riser and always went out for a morning run. You, on the other hand, wasn't an early riser. You'd wake up around the same time Ruben did. He would listen to your footsteps puttering around the kitchen while he lay in bed. By the time you knocked on his door to give him his shot, Ruben had been awake for hours, thinking about you and how he would do anything to feel your hands against his face again.
"Do you think she's gone missing?" Ruben asked Max.
"I thought she said that she had an audition this afternoon?"
"A what?"
"An audition. She's an actress, you know? A really good one too."
"Y/N, an actress?" Ruben found it very laughable. Actors and actresses possessed the skill of lying to the world. That night, looking into your eyes as you held his face, Ruben saw nothing but the truth in them. The truth that you were indeed the most breathtaking woman he had ever seen.
"Yeah, apparently she's studied at one of the best acting schools in London."
"Oh, yeah? Then how come I haven't seen her in any movies?"
It was a slow day in the park. However, Max refused to bring out the tennis balls. Despite the surgery, it was obvious that Ruben's conditions had yet improved. He feared that it was getting worse. And with that thought his creeping depression would return to him with the thoughts of never playing football again. That, and the fact that going blind forever meant never seeing your eyes again.
"I dunno, she said something about the movie industry being misogynistic and unfair to women." Max explained.
Ruben snorted. "Sounds like excuses to me."
He was an asshole at heart. Ruben knew that. But you didn't, or at least pretended not to notice. It's the reason why he hired you. You had an attitude like no other, an attitude that was reflected in your snapping tongue. Whatever Ruben put you through, no matter the insult, you always looked at him the same. Not with pity like his mother. You looked at Ruben as if you could see right through him. See through the pain in his heart and the many many failed attempts to better himself. You gave him the illusion that he might be good enough for you. However, the whole world knew that he wasn't. Not with his broken mind.
The sun had gone down by the time you got back to the apartment. Ruben and Max returned from the park hours ago. You had missed dinner and Ruben didn't like that. Did you have dinner somewhere else? With someone else? If that was the case, the two of you really needed to talk.
"Ruben?"
It was right on cue that you knocked on his door. You had made it a habit to check on him before you retreated to your own room. Ruben would never admit it, but this was the favorite part of his day.
"Come in." He said, sitting up in bed. He perked up even more seeing you appear in the doorway, your face painted with makeup, wearing a tight black dress that hugged your shape in ways that struck his sinful imagination. No bandages covered his eyes during these hours and luckily you wore a coat over your naked shoulders, preventing Ruben from completely losing his mind at the sight of you.
"Hey, I just wanted to check on you." You said.
"Well, like all the other nights you've checked on me, I'm still alive."
His cheesy comment made your smile fade. Good job Ruben, he thought. Even in the dark he could see your distaste for him.
"I mean, do you need anything before I go to bed?"
"No."
"Oh, okay."
You lingered in the door frame, perhaps feeling forced to make small talk. "Max told me that you guys went to the park today, did you have a nice time?"
"Yes."
"Good."
An awkward silence followed. If you would only step a little closer to the bed so that he could see you clearly. Ruben's vision got a bit blurry where you stood, since his eyes still needed time to adjust, even to the dark.
"Did Max let you exercise again?" You asked.
Ruben snorted. "No."
"I'm sorry about that."
Perhaps you felt guilty ever since his little fumble in the park, where Ruben's heart topped the average rate. Max refused anymore advanced brain exercises after that. The reason for Ruben's newfound restlessness. Nevertheless, he didn't blame it on you.
"It's not your fault." Ruben said, looking at his hands. "We'll start again in time."
You nodded. "You will get better in time, Ruben, your doctor said so himself."
You had started taking him to his weekly appointments. Although you were much better company than Ruben's mother, he didn't like the look of pity that you gave him as the doctors would pin all those needles in him to run their many many tests. You would never see him for the man he really was, a football player.
"Where were you?" Ruben asked, pleased to change the subject.
"Erm...out."
"Out with who?"
Your arms folded. "Why do you assume I was out with someone?"
"You were out alone?"
"Yes, yes I was. Believe it or not."
"Why were you dressed like that?"
You looked down on your dress. The light from the hallway reflected off of the little specks of glitter, putting dots on Ruben's walls, making it look like little stars roamed above their heads.
"What's wrong with the way I dress?" You frowned.
"Nothing." He shrugged. "It just looks like you were going on a date or something."
"And if I were?"
"What?"
Ruben's reaction made you smile. "Yeah, if I did in fact go on a date, what's it to?"
"I don't....."
He choked on his words and you laughed.
"Relax Ruben. I'm only dressed like this because the audition I went to required it."
Of course, he thought. Max told him about your acting pursuit, although he still doubted that you were a good one. However, Ruben was curious. "How did it go?"
"Shit." You sighed and to his surprise stepped into the room. "The directors wanted me to run lines in a scouse accent. Like, who even knows how to do that?"
Ruben laughed. He thought about the many times he had been scolded by the Liverpool fans. He never managed to understand a word of what they were saying to him. He doubted anyone knew what they were saying, not even themselves.
"All I'm saying is thank God for this job, otherwise I'd probably be on the street begging for leftovers."
"I'm sure you'll get your breakthrough." He said and really meant it. If it wasn't in your heart to work for him it could turn ugly very quickly.
"I dunno?" You sighed and to Ruben's surprise, felt comfortable enough to take a seat on his bed.
His legs stirred under the covers to distract him from the blood rushing to parts of his body that he really didn't want to come alive right now. Luckily, the room was dark and you sat on the foot of his bed. Nevertheless, your silhouette was enough to send him off. You were beautiful beyond the light, and if he was ever given the pleasure to touch you one day, he'd forsure make it memorable.
"Ruben?"
Fuck, he thought. You must have caught him staring.
"Yes?" He replied, cupping his groin under the covers.
"I want you to be honest with me."
Fuck.
"Before I go to bed...."
Yeah, he's done.
"Of course." He said, clearing his throat.
"Do you need my help getting to the toilet?"
"Pardon?"
You avoided his eyes out of cheer embarrassment. "You know...." You said. "To help you pee?"
If only God did drive-by's. "No, Y/N." He sighed. "I'm good to go on my own if I have to."
"You sure?"
"Of course I'm sure. It's my body, isn't it?"
"I'm just saying. Last time..."
"Last time was a first."
"Right." There was a hint of a smile on your face. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."
Ruben's heart sank, seeing you leave his bedside. "Y/N?" He exclaimed, stopping you at the door.
You turned around, eyebrows raised.
"Erm...you look beautiful."
Your face lit up. "Thank you."
"Yeah, um....goodnight, I guess." Ruben was quite desperate for you to leave.
"Goodnight Ruben."
He fell onto his back once the door shut. And an odd surprise awaited him as he slid a hand down his sweatpants. Ruben had been told that parts of his body could remain permanently affected by his injuries. Like the next man he wondered if that meant his abilities to perform in other places than just the football pitch, and unfortunately the answer was, yes. Like the next man Ruben had tried watching porn in all kinds of outrageous themes. However, nothing had done it for him. But now here he lay, with a full fledged erection and one person on his mind.
As he began stroking himself, Ruben thought of stripping you of that dress of yours, touching you in ways that would pleasure you to a point of rapture. Oh how he would love to rip you apart, to hear you moan his name.
"Fuck."
As much as he wanted to make the moment last, Ruben was too horny to maintain a steady pace. He stroked his dick like his life depended on it. As if his mother could burst into his room at any minute.
"Shit...."
Ruben ground, succumbing to his own temptations. He felt pathetic afterwards. Like an animal unable to control his urges. Nevertheless, he made a promise that the next time he came, it would be inside of you.
Part 5 and 6 are out on my Patreon!
#fanfiction#football imagine#footballer x reader#footballer imagine#man city#ruben dias#football angst#manchester city#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias imagine
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💜 𝓝𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 💜

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GITJ Post 290: A Date at the Movies, p6
SCRIPT: FULL AUDIO FILLS AVAILABLE AT MY PATREON
Cast:
Melissa Monroe: new Office Manager of Far Horizons Medical Associates. Has grown very tall (6’6” currently, very strong) brunette. Mid/late 20’s by her accounts
“Dr. J” (no spoken lines): her boss and new boyfriend; he has slowly shrunk to about 5’ tall. Indeterminate early 40’s, late 30’s.
Setting: the two are alone, inside Melissa’s car, nighttime, after a big group “date” where he was out with her and her friends. Already cursed with an unnatural priapism, he’s been snuck some viagra in a smoothie as a joke and has already spontaneously orgasmed all over himself just ten or so minutes ago. His pants and boxers are still down past his knees but he's got a white sweatshirt laid over his sodden crotch for modesty. He’s in the passenger seat, they’ve just arrived in the parking lot of where he lives (an apartment over the medical office). Exhausted, he’s dozed off.
Themes: are Fdom/Msub, strong/growing woman with mommydom vibes, smaller/weaker male.
Key:
Italics for emphasis
<directions>
She’s driven to parking lot of office. She looks down at him; he’s sleeping. She starts a private manifestation in the rearview mirror to herself.
—- begin script—-:
<Melissa: deep breath>
<For the manifestation, your voice is slow and you’re trying to sound confident to yourself, to convince yourself of these things:>
“I am the main source of his comfort and pleasure. Without me, he is uneasy and uncomfortable. When I am with him I can ease his pain. He looks to me for safety, for warmth, to feel better again. I bring him gratification, satisfaction, and peace. He is falling in love with me and with what my body can provide. I am going to be his everything.”
<pause. now: voice becomes chipper, bright. But a bit hushed, talking to yourself and not wanting to wake him up just yet>
“Okay..! <big exhale> Manifestations always make me feel better..!”
“Now, let’s see…<indulgent> awwwWWW. He’s still sleeping. He’s so adorable, passed out there next to me. Let’s see how things are doing under Lakshmi’s sweatshirt, shall we? We’ll just peeeeel it right off of your lap - haha so sticky, you’re all messy - and….”
<a bit surprised, a little overcome>
“Ooo….! Oooo my god. Wow. That…that smells so…Whoah. Wow, haha. So…good.”
<you take a deep breath of him, struck by the powerful pheromones, unable to keep from moaning in pleasure/delight. But voice is still hushed, as he’s still asleep>
“Haha so…so much of it. And…Omigod, look at you. You’re still so…still so hard. That smoothie really did a number on you, you poor thing...”
<a little in awe. He’s nine and a half inches, and rock solid, still enormously hard from viagra overdose, even asleep. You’ve seen his erection a couple times before, but it never ceases to amaze, esp since he’s so short and skinny.>
“Standing…straight up from your lap like that. All…hard and twitchy. All those thick, solid veins. So big…”
<pause. you take another deep breath of him>
<your voice perks up a bit again as you notice him start to stir. Your manner is still indulgent, soft, smooth, but commanding in a maternal way.>
“Heyyyyy…hey you. Starting to wake up a little, hmm? Mmmm…it’s okay. You’re with me. We’re in the parking lot, you’re home. We’ll get you up to bed soon…”
<He’s waking up, groggy. He groans as your own perfumes already making his manhood start to throb angrily>
“Aw, look at that…My poor baby. I know. You’re still so hard. Does it hurt? Awww…poor thing. Your scrotum is still all swollen, your testicles look even bigger than the last time. And your cock is so…so stiff and purple. <tongue clucks several times> You just came like ten minutes ago but you still look so pent up and ready to explode.”
“Is it uncomfortable, sweetie? Being that hard?”
<pause>
“Is it okay if I…touch? Maybe I can help if I…there, like that…wrap my hand around y- oooo haha!!”
<exclamation, as he’s just suddenly reacted>
“Ahhh <giggles!>! Careful! Careful…look at you, bucking your hips up into my hand like that! Shhh…shhh…relax, relax. There…there you go. Relax…let me hold you…”
“Awww, yesss, there we go….that’s nice. That’s okay, isn’t it?”
<You’ve taken careful, gentle hold of him, and now slowly begin to massage it. He’s still wet from his own jism. Perhaps a slow, squishy sound effect starts.>
“It’s okay if I…gently squeeze it, a little? And maybe stroke it a bit? Mmmm…yeah. You can stay calm, that’s right. There we are…that feels nice, doesn’t it?”
<sounds of a slow, wet handjob commence, a few strokes>
<your voice is now taken a bit by emotion, hushes a bit more>
“Oh my god I’ve been thinking about this since the last time we were together, sweetie…you’re so big, so hard for me…”
<He groans as you keep slowly stroking>
“I know, sweetie…you’re groaning, making such good noises for me. I know, you’re so sensitive. Shhh…it’s okay…”
<pausing, more slow stroking>
“Oh honey….I can’t believe how hard it is…”
<pause, as he speaks>
“Oh, no, baby. You don’t have to apologize. It’s not a problem…You know I’m here for you no matter what…”
<a brief pause, still stroking>
“Here, sweetie, lay back some more…I’m going to reach out over you, to get to these buttons on the side of your seat…sorry for the boobs <giggle!>…”
<mechanical sounds of a seat reclining if you have them>
“There we go…bringing your seat back, laying you down…”
<his seat starts reclining fully, sounds stop>
<voice is even more maternally indulgent>
“There you go, all laid back now. Better? Good.”
“Now, I just need you to lay there, nice and relaxed…And let me take care of this little…situation for you. We’ll get you comfortable again. Do you understand? Hm? Can you…nod for me, honey? Yes? Mmmhmm?”
<pause for his nodding>
“Good…good boy. Now, take a deep breath and try to relax, sweetie…Let me finish this for you…”
<stroking continues>
“Shhh…shhhshhhshhh…it’s okay. Think about how nice it can be from now on, any time we’re together. I’ll be there, and whenever you get like this I can help, and you can just …let it go…”
“Oh yes, oh yes sweetie…moan like that. Moan for me, it’s okay. It’s just you and me…moan, moan all you want. I’m here. Melissa’s here…”
<wet handjob noises continue>
“Yes, that’s it…Good boy. Breathe, pumpkin, just breathe…”
<brief pause, maybe some indulgent coos>
“Oh…look at that. We just started and your body’s already spasming for me. Does that mean that you’re getting ready? Mmhmm…what a good boy…what a good boy you’re being for me. Good boy…keep going…”
“It won’t take much longer, sweetie, I promise…It’s almost over…”
<pause, still stroking, you’re in thought>
“Baby I know my hand feels really good right now…slow and steady, going up and down, up and down your erection…”
<stroking stops>
“...but Is it OK if I put it in my mouth? Hm?”
<pause, as he kinda responds>
“Oh sweetie I can barely hear you.<giggle!> Is that a ‘yes’? You’re okay…going in my mouth? Hm? Awww…thank you, baby. I’ve been wanting to do this for a long, long time…”
<it’ll be their first oral together, and you’re excited>
“Now, I don't want you to hold back, sweetie. You can moan loud for me and start gushing as soon as you're ready. You can let it out, baby, it’s okay…Melissa is here and I’m gonna catch it all in my mouth…”
“Okay, honey, here we go…”
<then blowjob starts, sound effects if you’re able. He’s huge (9+ inches even though he’s shrunk to just over five feet tall) but she’s able to take him all in, to the base, with some gurgling sounds>
<you humm around his erection, then slide off. Voice has sense of barely-restrained excitement>
”Oh, sweetie, oh honey. This is incredible….It’s so big. You’re cock is so huge….but I am too, aren’t I? I’m big. I’m a big girl, with a big mouth. I’m able to…”
<slides back on, more wet sounds. Then back off>
“Oh god I can take you, I can really take you all in. It’s…it’s like we were made for one another. Or, <giggle!>, since you were born 20 years before me…”
<pause, as he gurgles something>
“What? What was that? Fifteen, ten, whatever…but it’s like I was made for you, I guess.”
<by now you’ve flooded the car cabin with so many of your powerful pheromones he’s like jelly. You swallow his cock again. Sounds continue>
<voice remains indulgent, almost baby-talk>
“Oh, sweetie, those noises you’re making. Am I sucking too hard? Do I need to go easier on you?”
“No? You’re okay? <giggle!> Well, I’d better be careful, anyway. If I get too excited I might suck it right off..!”
<strong sucking noises>
“Ohhh, shhh shh shhh..! Don’t worry, I was joking. I know. I’m getting so strong, but you don’t have to worry. I can be gentle…”
“Here, shhhh…Let me show you. Let me suck the stress right out of you…”
<more sucking noises>
<he tries to ask you something, is pushing your long, thick hair aside. You slide off.>
“HMMMmmm…what’s that? You want me to put my hair up? Hm? So you can see, so you can watch? Okay honey, here…”
<brief moment where you’re putting your hair up>
“Better? Hm?”
<brief moment where you take hold again, slide him in and out a few times>
“You like watching? You like watching yourself disappear into my mouth?”
<a couole wet noises>
“You like to watch the cords of my neck, my muscles work? You like to look at my traps, see them swelling and flexing? Like this? Here, watch me flex…”
<your surprisingly powerful neck and shoulder muscles make him whimper>
“MMMmmmm….”
<your voice building in excitement, gradually becoming more aggressively dominant >
“Oh, yes…I heard that. Do my muscles make you whimper? Are they scary? My big, strong muscles? Oh god yes whimper more…”
<sucking noises>
<you’re even more excited. His inadequacy and awe of you is a turn-on to both of you>
“Jesus I’m so much stronger than you. And those whimpers…that’s what I like.”
<sucking>
“Your whimpering makes me feel powerful, even stronger.”
<sucking>
<He whimpers again, as loud as he can>
“Oh, you’re whimpering more?? You want me to feel powerful? Oh god…”
<sucking, with your moans>
“Do you like to hear me moan, in my strength, with your cock in my mouth?”
<sucking, with aggressive groaning, turning to a growl>
“Do you like to hear me growl?”
<cock in mouth again, growls, almost a roar>
“I sound so much stronger than you, I AM so much stronger than you…””
<sucking, aggressive growls>
“You’re so weak but your cock is so…is so big. It’s so strong. It’s made for me…”
<sucking, stronger>
“Oh god this is so good..! I wish you could just live in my throat. A little weakling man, living in my throat...”
<sucking, faster>
“Would you like that? Hm, Jay? To just live here in my mouth?”
<rapid sucking, almost there>
“Like a little man??”
<more rapid, almost there>
“Do you want to come?? Does the little man want to come in my throat??”
“Yes, yes, squirm for me, I like that. Squirm all you want. I can hold you down…”
“Now, come, come for me…come for Melissa…”
<Final blowjob sounds/your moans/he comes. Ad lib what you need here to make the moment right.>
“oh yesss…mmm yess…! <swallowing noises> You taste so good…mmmm…”
<In the end, you’re so happy, satisfied. Voice is once again soft, indulgent. But you’re so proud of what you’ve just done, confident>
“Oh good boy…good boyyyy…”
“Oh, my sweet baby boy, you look exhausted. All sweaty and trembling…Don’t worry, Melissa’s got you…shhhhh….”
“I like to see my little man get relief…And I’m so glad I can help you, sweetie. See, Melissa’s got everything under control. You feel better now, right? We just have to keep going, do this annnny time you need…”
“Aww. You must be so tired by now, baby…You can barely move. Your eyes are closing. And I’m not sure you can even hear me. Give me a little whimper…”
“Oh, goooood…. Mmm, It’s okay…We’re done, sweetie…”
“I know you can’t talk right now. Don’t worry…Let me wipe away those tears, baby…”
“It’s all good, it’s all over. You did so good, my darling. So, so good…”
“I’m very proud of you…”
“Now, I can put my good boy to a nice, restful sleep…a little perfume…”
<a pause as you subtly adjust your pheromones. Your manner is back to where we began, with the original affirmation>
“Safe and sound, there we go. See what I can do for you? I can be everything. Now, sleep, baby. Mama’s got you…”
<He passes out for good/until tomorrow AM>
“Mama’s got you…”

==============================================
Thank you to Joshua67 for his AI-generated Melissa, and of course to our two voice artists for each of their script fills. Find them both on Reddit as PSPill and AlexandraKixx
Audio Version 1 (PoisonedSugarPill) Audio Version 2 (AlexandraKixx)
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You Again II
A/N: Here’s part 2! We are open to adding more parts to this but this is where it is at for now. As always, send requests and feedback here :)
masterlist
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pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
warnings: age gap, smut, daddy kink, spitting kink, rough sex, multiple orgasms
word count: 5.4k
The pub seemed like a good idea at first. To eat some food and get to know each other some more, but the last thing Y/N was thinking of was food. He should’ve let her win, should have just waited till the end of the night to kiss her because he really just fucked it for the both of them.
She was sitting there, sipping on her wine and eating the appetizers they had ordered for them to share, chatting away but it was clear Y/N couldn’t focus. The amount of times he had caught her just staring at his lips was embarrassing, she wished she could stop. It was been months since Y/N had sex. Probably ages since she’d had good sex. She was never unsatisfied though, felt like she had gotten enough. Something about the way he kissed her and touched her and looked at her made her feel hot. He could tell she was distracted. He wasn’t sure why but he caught her staring directly at him and was curious why she had gotten so squirmy for-- until he asked.
“Bunny?” He had taken to calling her that, “Are you okay? You seem so distracted.” He murmured, rubbing over her hand. She snapped out of it and looked at him with wide eyes. “Do you not like the place? Or do you not feel well?” He hoped neither was the case but he was curious what was making her zone out the way she was. He had to ask her questions twice or call her name.
“Sorry,” Y/N mumbled, realizing she had zoned out enough for him to start noticing. He asked her what was up. What was she supposed to say? ‘You kissed me and now I’m horny and can’t have a focused conversation’? She was all embarrassed, her cheeks flushing at his concern. “No, no, it’s not that at all,” Y/N explained, looking at him and feeling her heart beating faster. Her pupils were certainly dilated beyond belief. “It’s lovely, I like it here... I’m feeling okay, I just..” She needed to just spit it out. “It’s going to sound really juvenile.” Y/N didn’t know how he was going to react but she couldn’t lie. “I just really want to kiss you again.” Her cheeks got all red, licking over her lips as she squirmed in her seat a bit. Y/N couldn’t focus on the food, she just wanted to swallow him whole. She’d never been like this before. It’s been ages since she’s kissed anyone, but to get this worked up? It was crazy.
But Harry could tell she was horny.
He could see it now with how she tripped over her words, how she squirmed-- she was pressing her thighs together. She wanted kisses. And who would Harry be if he denied her of kisses? He had gotten her to eat at least something.
“Okay. Did you want to leave?” He asked softly, “We can kiss some more but... I don’t think you want to kiss with all these people around.” At least not yet. No, she needed somewhere where he could lick deeper into her mouth and kiss her properly. She let out this sound, this whine, it had his cock reacting to it. Christ. He threw a $50 on the table, standing up steadily while she scrambled a bit. There was an eagerness to her hand grabbing his arm and attaching herself to his side. “Let’s go then.”
They were there probably less than 45 minutes.
Y/N should have been ashamed of herself and she was a bit. “Sorry, you didn’t get to have that lava cake you were talking about..” Y/N murmured, “but I have those brownies I was telling you about?” She at least wanted to offer something, “and wine.” She was all squirmy even in the seat of the car, her heart rate picking up again. Her body never had a reaction like that to a kiss before. What on earth was happening? Was this what it was meant to feel like? A genuine attraction? Cause she was starting to believe she’d never been attracted to anyone before him.
“S’okay, bunny.” He laughed quietly at her mention of the lava cake. “Think that some kisses are a far better alternative. Much sweeter.” He patted her thigh gently. Yes, they were. He was excited to get her truly alone so he could kiss on her and give her what she was wanting. He hadn’t been this attracted to a woman in his life. He had found everything she did incredibly beautiful, even just the way she flipped her hair. It was overwhelming. He was obsessed with her. She didn’t know how beautiful she was.
Once they arrived at her apartment building, Y/N led him through the lobby and into the elevator with quickness in her step. She was eager and that was clear even when she fumbled with her keys, letting him inside and locked the door behind her. She was so incredibly needy, but she needed to chill out a bit. Y/N didn’t want him thinking she was always like this, especially when the date had started off so strongly.
“Again, make yourself comfortable.” Y/N smiled, “I’ll get some wine and some brownies.” She giggled and made her way over to her kitchen to get everything sorted for them. It was rather nice to have him in her home, she felt safe here like she could let loose. She brought over the brownies and the wine, the lighting in the room was on its dim setting seeing as it was past 7 pm. They were on a timer just because she had a bad habit of falling asleep and forgetting to turn them off.
“Y/N?” He murmured to her when she walked towards him. She looked confused but tilted her head as if to ask him what. “Put those down.” He pointed to them, watching her perk up a little as he sat on her couch. “Come here.” He motioned for her to come to him. Obviously it was a bit of a shock with how gentle he had been all night and considerate but she had him horny now, had him wanting more kissing. “Sit.” He didn’t give her a chance to think before pulling her body down on to his, a gasp of air leaving her as he steadied her. “Fuck the brownies. You wanted my mouth, didn’t you? S’why you were staring the whole time.” He had hold of her chin so he was in control for the time being.
Y/N was like a fish out of water. Her eyes were wide, mouth opening and closing, but she was at a loss for words. This was new for her, this feeling. It was like an adrenaline rush. The tone of his voice was forceful yet gentle, she didn’t feel like he was being pushy or anything just... dominant. Her body shuddered, goosebumps covering her skin as she swallowed thickly, eyes searching his.
“Wanted to at least offer, didn’t want to be pushy..” She murmured, clearly not understanding fully where this demeanor was coming from. It was safe to say Y/N didn’t know much about sex besides the vanilla stuff. Sex, oral sex, basic kinks, but nothing like this. To her, it was completely new and unheard of.
“You’re so cute.” He chuckled, noticing that Y/N obviously wasn’t used to this type of thing. “Got so much to teach you, little bunny. So much to show you.” He licked over his lips as he moved his hand up and cupped the side of her neck. “S’okay to be pushy for something you’d like when it’s wanted just as bad by the other person.” He could feel her pulse in her neck where his thumb rested. “But for now, let’s just kiss a little bit.” He knew that if she wanted to push it further than that he would have to tell her he was a little kinky and liked to be called daddy. Tell her that he liked to go hard. He knew that could slip. “Come on.” He murmured, pressing his lips back to hers and leaned back into the couch. It was all it took to have her melting into his body, arms going back around his shoulders.
Her heart was definitely beating very fast from just how bold he was being. Not only was he courting her, but he was also taking control? It had her heart going. He did say she had a lot to learn, but what could she possibly be missing? She let out a little hum when their lips connected, feeling those butterflies return. Y/N definitely was enjoying how smooth he was, how easy it was for him to control the pace of the kiss. She also liked his hands, she found them to be warm and strong and that was getting her brain going to mush as well. His mouth was like paradise, she kept making these little sounds she didn’t even know she could make.
Harry decided to take things into his own hands when he received enough positive reactions. He picked her up in his lap and shifted her himself. He wanted her a certain place, pressed up against him the most she could be. Harry was needy for her attention and he could be man enough to admit it. His hand ran over her back, moving her hair out of her face when it came back up. Their kisses were deep and he could taste her all through his mouth. She was just as eager and as needy, even more so. He was controlled, keeping her at back and teasing slightly when he pulled back from kisses to lick at her lip. Her breathing was definitely heavier, a squeak coming from her lips as he picked her up and shifted her on his lap. She was mad at herself for wearing jeans, feeling the fabric stretch. She would much rather be wearing much less clothing, would rather see him in less clothing. He always wore these long sleeves, she wanted to see some skin.
“Your mouth tastes so sweet.” He murmured, leaning in closer. “Stick out your tongue for me?” The first of many tricks, he licked his right over it before gently sucking it into his mouth. It was hot, obviously never done before in this way to her. He held her face with one hand and suckled at it before he released it. He was experimenting, seeing what she truly liked.
Though she whined at his teasing, she was still a very good listener. Y/N let out a breathy whine, her hand tightening on the hair at the nape of his neck to let him know she liked it. She rolled her body up against his, feeling so much better about having left that goddamn pub early. This was so much better. Y/N was on a high, but her body felt that need for touch, a craving. It wasn’t enough. The licking into his mouth was only doing so much, but she liked letting him do as he pleased. He ran his hands down her body and stopped at her ass. The whine she let out against his mouth signaled to him that she definitely liked his hands on her, so he moved to grab her ass. Two handfuls, squeezing. So good, she reacted immediately with a moan against his mouth, Harry using his strength to roll her hips against his cock. He wanted some relief too, and this felt so good.
“Fuck me.” He muttered against her mouth. “You’re so beautiful. Fuck.” He held at her ass, bringing one up to smack it. She let out a yelp and looked at him alarmed, Harry simply chuckling and rubbing the sing through the jeans. “S’a perfect ass. Are you going to let me see it?”
The grinding over his cock was normal, but the smack over her ass? No one had ever done that before. More importantly, why did she like it so much? Y/N let out a strained whine, backing her ass up against the hand that was moving it over and pecked after his lips.
“You want to?” She whispered as she pulled back, pupils blown. Y/N was clearly excited, pulling away from him so that she could stand up and strip out of her jeans. She knew she got prepared for a reason. Thank god. However, she had some plain and classy set on. She didn’t really own any sexy underwear. “This too?” Y/N asked curiously, holding her little white button up at the buttons waiting for him to direct her. She could see that he was hard in his pants, that definitely turned her on even more. She didn’t think she’d be able to hold back.
“Yeah- off. Want all of it off. Let me see what’s mine.” Harry already considered her his. He didn’t really care if it was soon but he knew that there was no way she was going to be let go this easily when he was so fond of her already. When she did remove her clothes, he let out an audible groan. Moving closer and kissing over her bare stomach, standing up to kiss over her chest. Harry tugged and placed her hands at his belt, “Take care of this.” He requested, continuing his kissing over her chest. “Perfect tits too. How did I get the whole package, hm? How did I get so lucky?” His hands ran over her body as he felt her throw his belt to the floor and his pants unbuttoned. He stepped out of them; simply grabbing her hips and picking her up so she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Which way?” He demanded an answer. “Want to lay you out for me so I can touch.”
“End of the hall.” Y/N breathed out, knowing that this was really going to be it. She was positive that he had a lot more to show her than she realized. Their little make-out on the couch was way more involved than any other one she’d had before. Her cunt was practically throbbing for him. Thank god for her big bed too. They’d have plenty of room to do whatever the fuck they wanted, and by the look on Harry’s face they’d be in for a very wild ride.
Harry had her on the bed easily, stripping his shirt off and over his head as soon as he could. He almost felt predator-like, stalking up on the bed and between her legs so he could hover over her, kissing from the top of her panties, making his way over to her mouth again. He was taking risks here and he didn’t care. His hand cupped over her pussy, feeling the slickness through the panties. The heel of his hand rubbed against her clit, making her buck into his hand. God, Harry missed making a woman cum-- however, Y/N would be a brand new and better experience.
“Feels good on your cunt, yeah? Were you sitting in that booth across from me with your pussy all messy like this?”
“Yes.” She squeaked, her body was reacting rather well to his touches. She was hungry for his mouth, her hand going up to cup his cheek as they kissed but slowly moved to the back of his head. His words surprised her, a whine leaving her lips. Y/N was so eager to touch. Her leg hooked around his, bringing him closer without speaking. It was something that she just never really did in bed. Yeah, moans and whatnot, but... she was often quiet in bed and asked for what she wanted without using her words. Harry was hot. Maybe the 12 extra years have done him well in the world of sex. He certainly seemed to know what he was doing and the two of them seemed to be starved of intimacy. “Please.”
“Please what, sweetheart?” He cooed. “Gonna need you to ask daddy what you want.” He liked that she shuddered from his words and that she seemed to genuinely be in awe of his touching. She wanted it so bad but had never been with a man like Harry before. “Because I can make you feel so good. I can spend all night making you cum and shake all over this bed. I want to hear you say ‘Please, Daddy, fuck my dirty little cunt.” He smirked wolfishly. Yes, he was pushing her to her limits but she needed it. She was being pushed for the right reasons. “Because as soon as you do, these panties are off and I’ll properly make you cum. You’re about to cum from this but, I can stop.” He paused just movement and looked at her desperate face.
She was a squirmy mess beneath him and he was definitely wanting to push her boundaries. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, she definitely did, her eyes darkened whenever he had brought up something new and exciting she had never done before. It was clear that she was a bit shy and nervous, blushing deeply when he asked her to tell him what she wanted.
He wanted her to say those 7 words.
Y/N whimpered when he pulled his hand away from her, her mouth opening to speak but she was too nervous to see it. It really wasn’t like her, but she knew that it would make him happy if she did. She was just very conflicted. Being adventurous in bed was new for her, even if it seemed so simple for him, she really hoped he understood that especially by the look on her face. Her body was aching for him to touch, but he wasn’t giving it to her and she was growing increasingly frustrated. It took her a few moments, some encouragement, but she had finally said the words.
“Please, Daddy... I want you to, fuck my dirty little cunt.” The words felt so foreign.
“There’s my girl.” He cooed, taking the panties off in one fell swoop. She had done what was asked of her so she would be rewarded. One finger was slid inside of her cunt. Hot, wet walls clenched tightly around him as he began to thrust it into her. “Fuck me... you’re so tight.” He breathed against her cheek. He didn’t know how long he could last not being inside of her. All he wanted was to slide in and give Y/N every bit of his cock. “So messy too. Hit the gold mine of cunt, haven’t I baby?” He murmured, adding another finger before fucking it faster into her pussy. He wanted one orgasm before he did so and it wouldn’t be difficult based off of her squirming. “Want to hear you. Don’t hide what you feel, baby. Tell me about how wet you are. Moan. I want to hear it. Makes me so happy.” He curled his fingers, her hand going to his wrist. He pulled it away, placing it on her clit. “Rub yourself.”
The way his fingers so easily slipped into her just said it all. A loud moan escaped her at the feeling of his fingers hitting places she was never able to reach on her own. How could she ever go back to normal after this? She needed him for this now, no one else would do. Having him right in her ear didn’t help either, she was shuddering and whining and moaning left and right but she couldn’t bring herself to speak still. It would take some working at, she definitely needed to be pushed a bit and he was doing a good job at that. He said it made him happy to know, she wanted to make him happy.
“F-feels good...” She breathed, “Want more, please.”
“There you go, baby.” He purred, thrusting his fingers harder into her as he spoke to her. “That’s what I want to see. So wet for me, you see this?” He had her watch as he pulled his fingers out for a moment and how wet and drippy they were before he thrust them back in. “Cum for me so I can fuck you. Come on.” He coaxed, moving up and kissing her deeply, pulling back only to pepper kisses to her chest. His fingers worked steadily and fucked her at a fast pace to work at her. “Cum for daddy, Y/N. M’gonna fill you up and stretch you proper as soon as you do. Rub your little clit, you’re so close. I can feel you.” She was so close.
It was overwhelming-- his praises, his fingers, his kisses, his encouragement. It all sent her into a crash of an orgasm. Her body was shaking, twitching as she continued to kiss him. Moans flowed into his mouth, her breath being caught in her throat from just how good it felt.
“D-daddy...” She whimpered out, knowing he’d like that. Y/N was trying for him because that was definitely the most incredible orgasm she had ever had. Y/N couldn’t stop kissing him, even when he had pulled his fingers out of her. “I-I never had two...” Y/N wanted him inside of her, wanted to feel full, but she’d never had more than one orgasm in a row. She wasn’t sure if her body even let her do that. Y/N didn’t want to fake it either. He would be understanding she was sure, but she had to warn him anyway.
“Better get used to having a lot with me. So many orgasms, you’re going to be spoiled rotten.” He would treat this woman with the most care and need he ever had with anyone and she would see it. He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean. It tasted so good, the moment it touched his tongue he was groaning deep in his throat. “So sweet. Gonna have to lick your pretty pussy up soon. But I need to fuck you.” They both needed his cock inside of her. “Trust me. M’gonna get you there.” He laughed softly at her concern but he had made a few women have multiple orgasms in his day. She was especially sensitive too and didn’t know it. He would have fun with her. “S’gonna sting a little. You’re small.” Her cunt was small and his cock was far bigger than his fingers, so he took his time easing himself into her. Panting slightly at just how good it felt, her walls throbbing around him and how she squirmed under him and held on to his forearms tightly. “Shhh, baby. S’good. You’re alright.”
“So big..” She murmured, feeling herself make a mess around him the more and more he spoke into her ear. She was a very big fan of dirty talk. Feeling him slowly slide into her felt even more satisfying. Her breathing was heavy, her whines constant with every time he pushed into her. “Just fuck me, please.” She asked, nuzzling her face into his neck because she really couldn’t wait anymore. Y/N was gagging for it, she was ready to feel him stretch her out and have him have a proper go at her. He responded to her request by thrusting all the way in. Her sounds appealed to him so much, he pulled out and thrust back in again. Slow, hard thrusts. Getting a noise from her and her nails diffing into his back with each hard fuck into her.
“Yes... love this pussy. So fucking tight.” Was this how all young pussy felt? He swore she was the tightest he had ever had, even at her age. She was incredible. Giving him everything he wanted without even trying. “That’s my girl. Taking my cock in you so well.” There was no protection and that in itself only made him more aroused. He was taking the woman he wanted to be his, bare. “This is what you wanted, hm? Wanted my big cock inside of your little pussy?” He sped up his thrusts so it was at a steady level, and they could hear how wet she was with each thrust. “Can you hear that? How soaked you are around my cock? It feels so good to have your pussy suckin’ in me like that. Trying to milk me hm?”
“Oh—“
There wasn’t much else she could really do. Y/N was full of cock, her mouth wide open and back arching slightly up from the bed. She swore she’d never felt that place inside of her before but it felt fucking incredible. Strings of ‘uh’s and ‘ah’s and ‘daddy’s left her mouth, unable to really catch a breath. He was relentless and she was thankful for it, that coil in her stomach was returning. It was sensitive and a tad bit painful, but she was starting to think she liked the pain. After that little spank earlier, Y/N had realized just how much she wanted to feel it again. Especially when he was stretching her out so well. Y/N knew she wouldn’t last long, it had been a while and she was so incredibly worked up. He could whisper a few more words in her ear and she’d be losing her mind all over him.
“C’mon baby. Give me that cum. M’not done with you yet, no... gonna pull you up and fuck you on your knees. Want to watch your ass bounce while I fuck you hard.” He smirked as she looked at him with glassy eyes, already a mess under him. “Give it time me, baby. So close, I can feel it so close for me. Give daddy that cream.” He purred, snapping his hips harder. He wasn’t going too fast. He was saving that. While her mouth was open, Harry grabbed her chin. The other hand kept him up, her breathing chippy. “Tongue.” He ordered Y/N morning and nodded her head before exposing it to him. Leaning closer, he spit thickly on her tongue, grinding his hips into her. “Swallow it. Cum.”
Her eyes practically crossed as she swallowed his spit, feeling incredibly dirty but that was the best part of it. She felt like she could do all of it with him and he wouldn’t judge, he just wanted her to be dirty and take it. That was incredibly attractive to her. Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat, unable to inform him that she was about to cum. Instead, her orgasm ripped through her with a loud scream, his cock still working into her cashing small squeaks to follow suit. She was very sensitive. Looking up at him, he really didn’t seem like he was done and she knew that she just needed to let her walls down or she wouldn’t last. He flipped her around and pulled her to sit up by the hair, panting as she leaned back to look at him. He slid his cock back inside of her, thrusting up into her much deeper this time.
“Oh my god!” She screamed, “holy— daddy!” Y/N was positive she had passed away.
He had gotten her on her hands and knees. She had cum twice already but he was going for three times. This is when he let loose, knowing she was sensitive and would cum again no doubt. Holding one hand on her hair, the other on her waist. He pounded into her. Hard. The bed shook, Harry groaning in relief. This was the fuck he wanted tonight. He wanted to wreck her for anyone else. Know that she would want him so badly and no one else.
“Yes, yes... my good girl.” He smacked her ass hard, feeling her clench around him harder. “Like them, hm? Like daddy spanking, your perfect ass.” He rewarded her with another spanking, pulling her up slightly by the hair so she had a bite of pain. He was experimenting and letting loose on her pussy. Fucking it hard. Taking what was his.
Y/N was gripping at the bed sheets for dear life, her whole body buzzing with hormones and dopamine. She felt a rush she had never felt before and it was all because of him. She had never been fucked so hard in her life, but she took it like a champ, feeling her eyes rolling back in pleasure every-time he hit extra deep. She even caught herself throwing it back into him, wanting more and more. She had completely let go, letting him use her in any way that he wanted. Y/N was just following orders, speaking when spoken too, and letting herself ride the waves of pleasure. More whines followed his spankings, a happy sigh leaving her mouth as well.
“Like it so much.” She told him, whimpering because yet again she was so close. Her pussy was fucked out, dripping wet, but she still wanted one more. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—“
“That’s what I want. Want you to take my cock in your filthy little pussy and let daddy take care of you. Gonna cum three times for me, hm?” He smirked, taking his hand to her throat to pull her up properly, back arched and hardy slammed into her hard. “This is my pussy now. Daddy’s perfect cunt. Gonna feel it all day tomorrow and remember who filled you up, who made you cum so many times.” He smirked, nibbling on her ear. “Because it’s mine. Made for my cock only.” He pushed her back down and grabbed her hair again, the sounds of her ass smacking against him and her moans filling the air. “Give it to me. Give me all that dirty shit baby girl. Gonna cum again on my cock? Slick me up more? Then let me cum in you?” He teased. “Yeah... s’exactly what daddy’s pretty girl is gonna do.”
Y/N felt herself tearing up at the pleasure, moaning out in ecstasy as he pulled and grabbed at her. She never knew that being manhandled like this would be so pleasing to her, but it had come to her attention that maybe everything she had come to know about herself should be questioned. Harry has claimed her now and she honestly wasn’t sure if it was just the sex talk or real-life talk, however, she wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about this. She would want this all the time, for him to teach her more, she wanted to speak more during sex and all that.
“I-I’m—“ Just like that, she was orgasming for the third time that evening and she was loving it. Her body just let her keep going and going and if she wasn’t so tired she’d let him keep going. Y/N was a bit loopy now, throat hoarse from all the screaming. It felt good though... fucking incredibly actually. She felt free.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Baby..” He hissed as he came, burying himself deep and cumming hard. It was the hardest he had ever cum in his life, shaking slightly as he pressed kisses to her back, grinding himself in as he pumped her full. “That’s my girl... so good. Did so well. Love how you feel. My pretty bunny.” He whispered, holding her close to his body as they both went through their orgasms. She was weak and he knew that, Harry moving them so they were spooning. He didn’t want to pull out just yet. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Mhm...” She hummed, taking his hand and bringing it up to her face. Y/N felt her eyes getting droopy, though all she really wanted was a cuddle from Harry and maybe a few more kisses. She pressed soft kisses to his skin, nuzzling into it so she could get comfortable. “Feel good..” She mumbled, already starting to doze off to sleep. “Stay?”
Y/N wasn’t really used to guys staying after but temporarily forgot that Harry wasn’t just some guy she was hooking up with. He had taken her out on a lovely date... he wanted to spend time with her and the sex was just extra. That’s what made her feel every better in her post-orgasmic state, feeling herself drift off knowing that she had finally gotten Harry. A whole year of wishing and hoping, and here he was.
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A/N: AHHHHHHHH exciting things! hope you enjoyed :) - n + d
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Ask Answers: January 28th, 2021 (Part 1)
And we’re back with many more ask answers! Thank you for waiting.
Is lizzie/the main character tripping over a rock a random event in barbecue? or does it require certain choices? i picked the same choices in multiple different playthroughs but ended up with three different outcomes (1. nothing happens 2. liz trips 3. i trip)
Yep! It’s completely random. Just a little moment of life you don’t have control over, haha.
wait just double checking you stated that derek would be another romantic interest you can pursue in step 4 right??? im just asking cuz hes my fav character
oh wait and btw i was the one that asked the question about derek being in the step 4 just now, and will you have to pay extra for like a dlc or something bc i play the free version rn and i just wanted to check!!
Yeah, you will eventually be able to romance him, but unfortunately it is a paid DLC. Cove is the only love interest who’s entirely free-to-play. You can follow our social media for when we giveaways for a chance to win a key for it, though.
i know that y’all said the step 3 dlc and step 4 will be released early 2021, is there any update to that? for example, a rough amount of days/weeks until release? no pressure at all, i’m super excited!! <3
The Step 3 DLC will be about in maybe two-two and half months or so. Step 4, we’re not entirely sure. Maybe a few months after the Step 3. We don’t want to give set dates until we’re really close to the release since otherwise we wouldn’t be able to 100% guarantee them.
First off love the game. Second I'm a little confused on how the nsfw dlc is gonna work. Because based on some stuff you've said it sounds like a patreon only thing and others make me think it could be an itch/steam thing after the fact? Would you mind clarifying for me 😅. Also if it's a patreon only thing do you need to become one before it's released?
It’s not going to be on Steam/Itch. The actual game of Our Life is safe for teens with no adult content. Any 18+ stuff we’re releasing is separate bonus content. Right now the only for sure plan is having it available through Patreon. If there’s another hosting site that’s not Steam or Itch that’d be easier for people than Patreon we might consider uploading it there too, but nothing else is set.
If you want the bonus Moment you’d have to join once it’s already out or sometime after the release. Joining now would get you our current rewards, but wouldn’t get you future content that’s coming later.
this is probably an awkward question and i apologize, feel free not to answer, but i just wanted to address the elephant in the room....will step 4 acknowledge covid/2020 world events?? i kind of hope not bc i'd like to just exist in a fictional version of the world where things are happy in this quaint seaside town and the world isn't falling apart, but i'd understand if there are some references to it. just thought i'd ask so i can Prepare if that makes sense
Step 4 isn’t going to include Covid or even reference it. When we set Step 4 in that year we definitely didn’t know there’d be a global pandemic during it. It’s too late to move the timeframe earlier or later, but we’re not going to make Step 4 stressful for anyone because the real world became so much more stressful. The universe of Our Life will just be an even more idealized place than it was before.
hiiiii! i'm really sorry if this is a bother. i was just curious if cove has a canon setting for each step, like is it canon that he stays candid the whole game and is super sporty for instance and the rest are variations? thank you for your time!
None of those settings are canon. They’re all equally valid.
I love the game and Cove so much that I ended up spending most of the holidays playing it. Definitely worth it! Idk if you're taking suggestions/criticisms, but I chose the peach skin tone and seeing it written as "my peach skin" in the game broke immersion for me because I kept thinking it was referring to the fruit instead of my skin color. I think that skin color is most commonly referred to as "fair" but "peachy" or "rosy" would work too if you're looking for a different word
Thank you for sharing your experience. We’ll change it to “peachy” in the next update!
So I accidentally overwrote a save file with a different one, is there any way I can recover that save?
Sadly, there isn’t. Not unless you had a backup of the actual save file files in a separate location you can get. I’m really sorry. You can try using the skip feature to quickly speed through the game and get back to where you were though.
Do you try to maintain the color scheme for the clothing throughout the years in Our Life?
Yes, though in hindsight not as much as I wished I did, haha. It could’ve been a little more cohesive. It was a bit too broad in my opinion.
I noticed that Cliff mentions he wasn’t much older than Cove before finding out he was going to be a father when he finds MC in bed with Cove during Part 3 so doesn’t that Cliff and Kyra were teenage/young parents?
Yeah, Cliff was nineteen and Kyra was eighteen when Cove was born. They were just a couple of kids.
Does Cove have a favourite holiday?
It changes depending on the year. Around Step 1 he’s not a huge fan of a lot of holidays because he’s not together with his whole family for them. But once he’s older and Kyra comes around more, he starts appreciating major family holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas more than other holidays because he knows how it feels not to have that. Though summer vacation is of course his most favorite all the time, if that counts as a “holiday”.
I tried to join your patreon but I can’t seem to? The website keeps saying something went wrong and to try again.
I’m sorry you’re having trouble! I think contacting Patreon support would probably be the best option if the joining process itself is having issues.
How much is it to become a part of your Patreon? I don’t have a lot of money currently but would love to help you out more than just buying the games and dlcs.
Aw, I appreciate you wanting to support but the Patreon is really optional. You don’t need to push yourself to join if you don’t have extra funds for it. To still answer the question, the tiers are $1, $5, $10, $15, and $20 in USD. Each come with different perks.
I had this idea for a future daughter for the MC and Cove being named "Poppy", after the flowers on their hill~
That’s a really sweet idea! I’m sure Cove would be a fan.
So if you don't mind me asking, how do you get Cove to propose to you in Step 4 and not the other way around?
I’m afraid that’d be too big of a spoiler to give away before the epilogue’s release, at least in terms of specifics. Generally you’ll just have to be patient and try not to propose first, haha.
will we get to move in with cove in step 4 😮?? or is that a secret
You can be living together with Cove in Step 4! Though you wouldn’t get to see the place itself. That’s up to your imagination.
Is it bad that I'm completely in love with Cove's dad... What I gotta pay to romance Cliff 😭 (I don't mean as Jamie because that would be wack)
That’ll cost one million 20 twenty dollar bills, haha. I’m really glad you like him, though sadly we aren’t able to make a separate game where you can romance Cliff. I wish we had enough time to make tons of new scenes/extra stories in the Our Life world, but it just takes too long. Maybe people will make fanworks about it.
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We released a new FAQ! It answers common questions and we’ll keep adding more to it. Please check there before sending an ask. FAQ Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog
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Rebellion

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter! Reader
Prologue
Premis:
When The League of Villians discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you're in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.
word count: 1405
A/N: Welcome to the dumpster fire!
Don't froget, I have a patreon now! So go support me there to get some nice and spicy, exclusive content, AND I'll only be accepting direct requests from Patrons now. Patrons will also be able to vote on what projects I focus on next. So please check me out there! I love you guys, and I hope you enjoy the prologue. I'm so excited for this one! 💕
Chapter 1
This was your mother's idea.
It was your mother's idea and your father played along. So shortly after graduation, you caught a plane to Japan to spend the summer with your father. After his early retirement, he had a lot more free time and your mother intended to exploit that.
You've been to Japan a handful of times to visit, but you spent the majority of your life with your mom in America. You've never been excited to go to Japan. The trips were usually filled with an unspoken sense of obligation and tension. Your father was always distant, even when you came to visit. He was always busy and even when he wasn't, there was a rift between the two of you. He just wasn't around enough to really be a father to you.
But you hoped that this time things would be better. Maybe now that it was just you and him, you could patch things up. Get to know AllMight a little better. That’s how you knew him. Not as your father, not even as Toshinori Yagi, but as AllMight.
The pressure in your ears began to subside and eventually pop as the plane landed. Soon you shuffled onto the ramp and into the bustling airport. You looked up at the signs for directions. Good thing a lot is in English, your Japanese is getting sloppy. What was that character again??
Eventually, you found him. You almost missed him. When you were a kid, he always put on a big show. He always had a driver pick you and your mom up from the airport to take you back to his luxury apartment, which he rarely used. But no, this time he was here in the flesh and what was even weirder was how he looked.
You had seen the fight on the news. The resurgence of All for One had gone viral and everyone knew. You would have taken the time to be more concerned about AllMight, if it wasn't for your mid-terms that week. Now he stood there, a shadow of the man he once was. Maybe things would be different this time.
"Hey! Over here!" He called out as he stretched a scrawny arm out and waved.
"Hey!" You called back with a smile. You let go of your luggage to greet him with a hug.
"I'm so glad you made it. How was the flight?" He spoke softly. You had heard the change over the phone, but in person, it was worse.
"Long."
"Heh, I bet. You hungry? Let's grab lunch." He took your luggage and began rolling it behind him as you walked. When you finally sat down for lunch, he suddenly perked up. "I almost forgot! I got you something, for graduation." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wooden box. Inside sat a black and gold pin in the shape of a graduation cap. For a second you didn't know what to say. Clearly, it was expensive. But you didn't know what the hell to do with it. Put it on your jacket? You would have much rather preferred the money it cost than the little shiny thing in front of you.
"It's beautiful. Thank you." You smiled in an attempt to appear grateful. You took the pin out and stuck it to the lapel of your denim jacket.
"I'm sorry I couldn't be there on the big day. It’s just that UA has had me pretty busy since security got tighter."
"Don't worry about it. I get it. How are things at the UA?" You asked. Anything to get him to talk, anything but silence. He went on and before you knew it lunch was over and you made your way back to his apartment.
"When did you move?" You asked as you kicked your shoes off at the door. The place was nice but much smaller. Nothing like the flashy penthouse from when you were a kid. It was quaint and homey. He even had a few house plants sitting around.
"Oh, a while back. The guest bed's over here." He showed you to your room which sat cold and alone in the dark. "You must be tired. I'll let you get settled before dinner."
"Hey, uh...is there a gym nearby by any chance?" You asked before he shut the door.
"Uh yeah, there's one in the building downstairs. You work out?" He asked awkwardly. You shrugged.
"I like to in my spare time. Its good to stay active."
"Yeah it is...it is...Well, I'll leave you to it." He said before closing the bedroom door. Damn, he was awkward. It’s like even as an adult he didn't know what to do with you. You were starting to regret coming here after all. But apart of you was determined to give the old man one last chance to be a father.
One. Last. Chance.
You couldn't sleep that night. Jet lag was getting to you, and despite being incredibly exhausted, you didn't sleep a wink. You decided to make yourself a cup of coffee, only to find he didn't keep any in the house. That’s right, he always preferred tea. So when he shuffled into the living room at 5 am and found you watching tv, wide awake, he offered to take you out for a cup before work.
"You have work today?" You asked as you watched him shuffle back to his room.
"I know, I'm sorry. Hey, why don't you come with me! I'm sure they'd let you follow your old man around for a day! What'd'ya say? It'll be fun." There he goes, talking to you like your a little kid. You'd think after graduating college he'd at least stop that.
"Didn't you say security is tight now? You said students were even living in dorms now last we spoke on the phone. You sure they'd let me in to just...observe all day." AllMight paused.
"Sure! You're my daughter after all." The idea embarrassed you just a little bit, but it sounded better than sitting around his apartment all day. You agreed.
You regretted it almost as soon as you got there. Most people, even his coworkers, had no idea you even existed. He never talked about you and every shocked face reminded you that. You fought the day with a horribly forced smile on your face. You stayed in the teacher's office when he taught classes. You sat there, reading on your phone for hours on end.
"You just graduated, right?" A deep voice asked from behind a computer. You looked up and turned to look over at Mr. Aizawa who sat at his desk. Looking outrageously bored and just as tired as you.
"Sorry?"
"What was your major?" He asked, looking back at the computer screen and going back to work.
"Forensic psychology and law."
"You wanna be a hero, like your old man?" He droned on.
"God, no. Hero work isn't for me."
"Yeah? What are you gonna do with your degree?" He seemed amused by your distaste for hero work. As far as you were concerned, heros were just cops with superpowers. And where you came from, that had its own set of issues.
"I have a job lined up with an office as a junior detective in New York."
"You want to be a detective?" He raised a brow and looked up at you.
"Something like that. I just want to actually help people."
"You don't think heros help people?"
"Not where I'm from." The conversation fizzled out from there. Occasionally teachers would leave and come back, starting small talk and then excusing themselves again. They were all nice enough, though, you tended to favor Aizawa's company. He often worked as a detective in many cases to catch criminals. So you could talk true crime with him easily. He also brought you a cup of coffee.
Soon the day came to an end and you walked with AllMight back to his car. Unfortunately, you weren't alone. Across the street, a pair of binoculars peered at you through a bush.
"Going home already, AllMight-I'm tired!"
"Wait, who's that girl?"
"Girl? Where? In the car!?"
#tomura shigaraki#shigaraki#tomura shigaraki x reader#tomura shigaraki x reader smut#mha x reader#mha#bnha
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Moth Wings 7
Pairing: AltMal, Altair+Desmond Rating: Explicit Tags: vampires, romance, servant AU, music AU, fluff, angst, flangst Status: WIP
Oof it’s been a while. I should really keep on top of this here on Tumblr. As before Tumblr gets updated before AO3, meanwhile Patreon is like 40k words ahead of everyone. Like Malik and Altair have fucked already lol
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Altair was alone in his room carefully restringing his violin. One of the strings had snapped and he took it as an excuse to put all new ones on. He saved the good old ones but putting new ones on gave him something to do before he passed out.
He’d been playing so much and that was why the string had broken. He’d tightened it too much and just all the playing he’d been doing the past few weeks had put a strain on the string and made it snap. It’d also left a cut across the top of his hand when it’d snapped, nothing serious but he’d had to leave Desmond in the care of someone else until the bleeding stopped. You couldn’t have an open wound around a vampire child like that. They didn’t have the control adults did.
He perked up when there was a knock on his door. Who? He got up and opened the door and couldn’t help himself. He looked down at Malik’s chest instead of at his face. “Did you need something, sir?” Altair asked.
“I came to see how your hand was doing,” Malik said.
Altair self consciously reached over and touched his bandage wrapped hand. It stung a little still but the bleeding had stopped. It had only broken the top few layers of skin, barely bleeding at all. “It’s doing fine. Probably won’t even scar.”
“Won’t affect your playing?”
“No, sir,” he said, still not looking at Malik directly.
“Are you able to play now?” Altair just shrugged. He flinched when Malik gently tipped his head up. “I don’t like talking to the top of your head, Altair.”
“Habit,” was all he said. Malik’s hand stayed under his chin, barely touching him.
“Is your hand well enough to play?”
“Tomorrow, probably. I should give it time to heal.”
“Good,” Malik nodded. “I’ve heard you playing for Desmond, you sound better every time, I swear.”
“Yeah, it’s called practice,” Altair said. Malik laughed. He’d never made a vampire laugh before. Well, except Desmond. But that hardly counted. Desmond was a baby.
“How are you sleeping?”
“That’s not your concern,” Altair said and finally pulled his head out of Malik’s reach, taking a step back into his room, hand on the door. “I don’t give you permission to come in here,” he said when he saw Malik try to step over his threshold. While Malik was invited into the castle and that meant every room he was welcome in you could revoke that permission. Altair had learned that when Desmond had first learned to walk and ended up almost going into rooms he shouldn’t have been in because he was curious. Altair was technically a member of the house and he could deny others access to rooms. He didn’t do it often.
Malik was frozen at the doorway. “I’m just trying to help you, Altair.”
“I asked you to leave me alone, sir,” Altair said. “That would help me.”
“How? Huh?”
“What does my condition have to do with you? You’re not of this coven, you’re not of this house. You’re just a guest. You shouldn’t meddle in the affairs of your hosts-
“Because I am not a monster is why,” Malik snapped. “And when I see suffering I want to end it if I can. My country is tearing itself apart and my coven decided to ‘make the best of it’ by coming to the conclusion that because humans were killing each other they could just casually hunt humans again like we were monsters. I couldn’t do anything to end the suffering there but damnit I can try and do something here,” he’d gotten very worked up and Altair was glad they were on opposite sides of the threshold.
“You don’t deserve to be treated like this, Altair. I want to help you.”
“I don’t want your help. So far you’ve done nothing but bring me pain,” Altair told him. “I was in ignorant bliss before. And you thinking you know what is best for me, a man you don’t even know, just made my reality all the more crushing. I told you before, you may help me now but you won’t be here forever, and when you leave this is where I’ll be. I’d rather not know the silken pillow for the stone that comes later.” Malik had nothing to say to that but he looked very annoyed.
“I need to go to bed now. Goodnight, Malik,” and he closed the door. He heard Malik make an wordless noise of anger and frustration on the other side but he didn’t care. He sat back down on his cot to finish stringing the violin. Only then did he put it away carefully and crawl into bed.
—
Now that Altair had taken Desmond outside the boy wanted to go more often. Altair didn’t mind. It was nice this time of year. Brisk at night, a creeping autumn chill settling in the valley. The leaves were starting to change color and soon they’d be falling. The master would bring some humans up in the day and have the grounds raked. It’d start snowing early and last well into spring. Altair had liked autumn and winter before he’d come to the castle but up here in isolation he hated it. There was no hot cider or warm fruit pies or the harvest festival.
So he was surprised when the master came and found Altair and Desmond in one of the gardens. Desmond was splashing his hands in the fountain, chasing the fish around the circular pond and slapping the water to make them dart away. Every time they swam away he’d laugh. Altair had a lamp beside him and was drawing idly. When the master came up he stopped drawing and kept his eyes down.
“So this is where you’ve been off to,” the master said.
“Yes, sir. The young master likes being outside in this weather,” Altair said, looking at the vampire’s well made shoes.
“Good. The town is throwing a festival in a few days. Bring him down to it.”
Altair looked up in surprise but when he met the master’s black eyes his brows went down and Altair immediately looked down again. “The harvest festival? We’re to go this year?”
“Yes. It’s good for him to see what sorts of things humans do so he isnt stupid.”
“Am I simply to accompany you and the mistress or am I free to wander?”
The master was thoughtful. “We will be the king and queen of the harvest and stationary. But a festival is a big place for exploring. We want our son to experience it.”
“Of course, master,” Altair bowed slightly where he was sitting.
“Ensure you look presentable when you go down there. You reflect on us as well,” he said.
“Yes, master,” Altair nodded. You mean not wear the same shirt he’d worn three days in a row because he hadn’t had a chance to wash them because he couldn’t add his laundry to the coven’s. William left after that, stopping briefly to see what Desmond was doing but he didn’t have much interest in the child.
Altair bit his lower lip and went back to his drawing. He needed to plan for this and make sure he had time to clean his nicer clothes. Or at least his nicest clothes. They were fairly nice too. He didn’t wear them often so he could keep them in good shape.
He heard a rustling of the trees and looked up, shielding the lamp slightly to help with his night vision. At first he saw nothing and then he hunched. A few members of the coven were flying off into the dark, their dragonfly and beetle wings flashing in the silver moonlight. He could hear their voices from here but not what they were saying, chattering to each other. Desmond looked up too. He held onto the fountain and started jumping up and down his little transparent wings buzzing without generating any lift. But he was trying.
They swooped across the nearly full moon, laughing and playing and Altair didn’t like watching them. Seeing human figures with wings like bugs flying in the night sky didn’t fill him with a sense of wonder. Were they just playing? Or were they out to play hunt? He’d heard of that happening, especially this coven. Not in Castlesong but in other towns in the valley they’d play stalk and hunt the people there only to laugh and dart away into the sky, finding the human’s fear of being eaten hilarious.
The vampires darted around the air but eventually flew too far away for Altair to hear or see them anymore. That made him feel better. He turned away from the sky. Desmond whined in annoyance he couldn’t fly with them and kept jumping to try and fly after them. Then he sat angrily on the ground, arms folded, pouting hard. Altair grinned watching him. “You’ll fly one day, Desmond,” Altair called to him. Desmond just whined and reached up towards the moon. “I know. You’ll get there when you’re older, just like the others,” Altair promised him.
“Now,” Desmond whined. Altair laughed. Desmond got up and came over to Altair and collapsed on his thigh. “Now,” he said looking up at Altair.
“Sorry. I can’t fly, neither can you,” he stroked Desmond’s hair gently. “But once your wings are bigger you’ll be able to.” Desmond just whined. “I know. Being a sweet little boy is so hard,” Altair teased him. Desmond whined louder and Altair just laughed some more.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Altair nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice behind him. He twisted around and frowned. It was Malik. He’d left Altair alone for a few days but he couldn’t seem to figure it out that Altair wanted to just be left alone for real. He was dressed in an elegant black and blue outfit that wasn’t a cut Altair had ever seen. At least not on a man. It looked almost like a dress but closer to a long tunic.
“Did you need something, sir?” Altair asked, looking at Desmond instead of Malik.
“I couldn’t help but overhear. Desmond wanted to join the others in a flight?”
“Yes. But he’s still too little.” Desmond pouted at Altair.
“Well that’s true, but he can still fly.”
Altair looked at him in confusion. “Unless there’s something I’m missing about how wings work, no he can’t,” he said.
He almost swallowed his tongue when Malik came around and without asking picked Desmond up. The child protested for half a second but in that time Malik unfurled his huge wings and picked himself up off the ground. Then Desmond started making happy little squeaks like he did when she was a newborn.
Altair got to his feet nervously, drawings forgotten. “Don’t drop him,” Altair called up to Malik who was only ten or so feet above his head.
“I would never,” Malik said. He flew back and forth around the fountain.
Altair’s heart was in his throat when Malik flew up over the garden trees and he lost sight of them in the darkness. His heart pounded with anxiety and then a huge pair of eyes appeared in the darkness above. Altair took a moment to realize it was the false eyes on the inside of Malik’s moth-like wings. He let out a shaky breath of relief when Malik landed in front of him.
“He’s fine,” Malik said even as Altair snatched the baby from Malik.
“If he was anything less than fine it’d be my life,” Altair said, holding Desmond tightly.
“Plaw!” Desmond cried happily, squirming in Altair’s arms but Altair kept a firm grip on him.
Altair took a deep breath to calm himself but his heart was still hammering. “Did you enjoy that?” he asked Desmond. Desmond nodded hugely, a huge smile on his face. “What do we say to people who do nice things for us?” he asked and faced Desmond towards Malik.
“Thank you,” Desmond cried cutely.
Malik looked taken aback a moment and then softened. “You’re welcome. What are you doing out here?”
“We’re enjoying the night,” Altair said, trying not to sound incredulous. He was a servant, not a captive. He could leave the castle as he wanted and certainly walk the grounds.
“Plaw plaw,” Desmond demanded.
“Desmond, hush,” Altair said.
“Altear, plaw!”
Altair sighed. “Alright.” He’d left his violin in the castle. He tried to juggle Desmond around to pick up his things but to his surprise Malik just did so instead. “I can take those,” he said, holding a hand out for them.
“I don’t mind,” Malik said.
“I’m sure this doesn’t qualify as leaving me alone,” Altair said.
“I live here. You’ll have to get used to me being around,” Malik said with a smirk. The real annoying part about it was that it just made Malik look more handsome, especially with his slightly wind ruffled hair from flying.
Altair just didn’t bother arguing. “Fine,” he said and took Desmond back into the castle. He let the boy down in his room and Desmond ran around and pulled out some of his toys and set them up like a little audience to listen to Altair play the violin. “I’ll take that now,” he held his hand for his things again to Malik.
“Can I join the audience?” Malik asked sheepishly. That annoyed Altair. Why was he so persistent in trying to bother Altair? Couldn’t he just leave Altair alone? But Altair figured at this point it’d be easier just to go along with it than fight Malik on it. He was good at making himself a nuisance and Altair didn’t have the energy to fight him.
“If you want,” and Altair took the sketchbook and his pencils. Malik glided into the room and sat cross legged behind Desmond’s toys he was still setting up to witness Altair’s playing.
Altair got his violin and got ready. He’d built up the proper calluses now over the weeks and his hand dexterity was way up. That made him happy. “Is everyone ready?” he asked Desmond who was carefully aligning his toys just so.
“Almost,” Desmond said, rearranging the wooden horses he had into some order that made the most sense to him, which Altair had no idea what that was but it made him happy. Then Desmond flopped down next to a large soft stuffed animal. “Plaw,” he said and he gave a little cheer when Altair drew out the first chord across the strings.
The two vampires watched and listened in silent delight. Altair hardly noticed them. He was playing a song he’d found the last time he’d visited his father. He’d brought some sheet music back up to the castle to have some actual music to play. The song he played was the only one he’d memorized so far. It was normally played with a singing accompaniment but Altair didn’t sing well enough to try. It was about a mountain climber trying to reach the tallest peak surrounding the valley. But he was foolish and went during a blizzard and never came home. People found him frozen to death on the side of the mountain a week later once the weather turned. It was a sad song but the tempo was upbeat and was usually sung as a cheerful but cautionary tale about not being an idiot and staying home during blizzards.
He finished the song and Malik clapped. Desmond looked at Malik and after a second mimicked him, slapping his palms together and not really succeeding in a proper clap. “That was amazing,” Malik said. “Right, Desmond? Altair plays beautiful music.”
“Bu-ful,” Desmond declared, still clapping.
“Did you make that?” Malik asked him.
“No. It’s a well known bard tune here in the valley. It’s about not going out during a blizzard or you’ll freeze to death,” Altair said.
“Excuse my ignorance: what’s a blizzard?” Malik asked. “We don’t have that where I’m from.”
“Well it's a storm but instead of rain it’s snow so thick you can’t see through it and can drop feet and feet of snow. It’s dangerous to go out in because of the cold.”
Malik grimaced. “That sounds terrible. Do you have blizzards often here?”
“A few times during winter, yes.” He laughed when Malik shivered just thinking about it. “You came here.”
“I didn’t think the weather would be that extreme,” Malik admitted.
“Altear, plaw plaw,” Desmond said, quite over the adults having a conversation when he could have more music.
“Okay okay,” Altair said to quiet him. He tried playing a song he was in the process of memorizing. He had the first part down but the second part was coming along slow. But he played it and the vampires didn’t care that he played the first few dozen bars over and over again to try and remember the next part.
Eventually he grew frustrated. He needed the sheet music. “Alright, that’s enough for now,” he declared.
“Awwww,” Desmond complained.
“I’ll play later,” Altair said.
“Yay!”
“Now put your toys away. They all want to go home after the performance,” Altair said. Desmond got up and started picking up his toys.
Malik unfolded from the floor. “That was magnificent,” he said, coming over to Altair as he was putting his instrument away. “It sounds so different from how you started off.”
“Desmond insists I play every day. It’s hard not to improve,” Altair said.
“I’m quite jealous of him. He gets to hear you play all the time. I just do if I happen to walk by at the right moment.” Altair just shrugged. Malik looked at Desmond cleaning up. “I’ve seen other vampire children, they’re never this well behaved, or clean up their own mess,” he said.
“Were they raised by vampires, or humans?”
“Vampires,” Malik said.
“Vampire parents don’t care about their children,” Altair said, punctuating it with clasps on the case snapping closed.
“That’s not true,” Malik protested.
Altair looked at him mildly, looking up but over his shoulder just so Malik wouldn’t touch him. “From what I’ve seen so far they don’t,” was all he said.
Malik grimaced. “Well... William and Kaley aren’t really star parent material I’ll agree,” he said. “But most other vampire parents care about the raising of their children. They’re still rarely this well behaved.”
“You can care about your children but if they’re old and aloof you’ll neglect them anyway,” Altair said. “And they’ll act unruly. I assume that’s why the masters have had humans raise their children for them. They know they don’t care, so force a human to care about them instead.”
Malik was taken aback. “The rest of them?”
“As far as I know,” Altair shrugged. He moved away from Malik and went to help Desmond with the last bit of putting his toys away. “What do you want to do now, Desmond?”
Desmond looked thoughtful. “Dwa,” he said.
“Okay,” Altair said gently and got some paper and pastels and pencils and put them on the floor for Desmond to draw with. Altair didn’t mind if Malik was still there. He could hang around if he wanted but Altair didn’t care about him. His only worry was Desmond. Desmond had an active imagination and loved drawing and it was full of color and intricate lines as he mimicked Altair. Altair also sometimes drew him lined drawings to color in. He’d gotten very good at drawing flowers as of late for Desmond to color in as those were some of Desmond's favorites. It meant there was a stuffed folder full of messily colored well drawn flowers.
He was shocked when Malik sat down on the floor with them. “May I join you, young master?” he asked Desmond.
“Dwa?”
“Yes. I like to draw too.”
“Okie,” Desmond said happily and went back to merrily scribbling on some paper.
Altair looked at Malik as he started drawing on a half used piece of paper Desmond had already drawn a few wide scribbles on. He was using Desmond seemingly random lines to make something out of them. Altair couldn’t help but keep glancing at what Malik was drawing even as he was casually using the pastels to make block shapes on his own paper. He was surprised that Malik was actually quite good. He had a delicate but purposeful hand, the pencil he was using barely leaving a mark on the paper but he went over it again and again to build up depth and volume in a way Altair had never seen before.
After a little while he’d turned some spiraled scribbles Desmond had put on the paper into strange centaurs of those striped horses that pulled his carriage. Zebras? Altair thought that was what they were called.
“Ooo,” Desmond leaned over to see what Malik was doing. “Horsey,” he pointed.
“Yes. They’re called zebras,” Malik said patiently.
“Zeeebas,” Desmond said.
“Close,” Malik allowed. “I have some.”
“Have horsies?”
Altair sighed. “Now you’ve done it?”
“What?” Malik asked.
“Horsies. Horsies. Horsies!” Desmond cried. “Altear horsies.”
“I take it he likes horses?” Malik asked with a grin.
“He loves horses. Ever since he saw Jacob and Evie leave that one time on them a few weeks ago to go visit a town in the north part of the valley but they were too lazy to fly,” Altair sighed.
“Altear, horsies! Zeeeebas!”
“I think he just wants to taste one at this point,” Altair leaned on his thigh.
Malik chuckled. “I have zebras,” he told Desmond. Desmond’s black eyes got huge. “Would you like to see them, young master?” Desmond’s mouth popped open and he just made a high pitched screeing sound he did when he was excited.
Altair reached over and closed his mouth. “That’s loud,” he said. Desmond flapped his hands at Altair excitedly, whining loudly. “Use your words and answer master Malik properly,” he said calmly.
Desmond tried to compose himself but he still flapped his arms excitedly. “Go zeebas?”
“Ah— if it’s alright with Altair,” Malik looked at Altair.
“What do we say?” Altair asked Desmond.
“Please!”
“Yes. We see the zebras. But first we have to clean up.” Desmond made an annoyed noise. “The quicker we clean up the sooner we can see the zebras.” Desmond immediately got up and started putting the pastels and pencils into their wooden bin. Altair gathered up the papers. Malik handed over his zebra centaurs over to Altair to add to the pile. Altair took a more than cursory glance over the picture and quickly put it away and got up to hide his blush. The two centaurs had his and Malik’s faces on them.
How inappropriate.
Altair picked up the bin and put them away, out of reach of Desmond normally and the paper went into one of the nearly overflowing folders full of paper. “All clean?” Altair asked Desmond.
“All cwean!” Desmond said proudly. Altair held out his hand and Desmond bounced over to grab it. “Zeebas now?” he asked, pulling on Altair’s hand.
“Yes. If that’s alright with you, sir.”
“Of course. I offered,” Malik said. He guided them out of the room and through the castle. They passed a few members of the coven who’d just come back from their flight, laughing and shoving each other playfully. They greeted Malik and Desmond but ignored Altair entirely, not even acknowledging that he was holding Desmond’s hand while he excitedly told them they were going to see the horses in the stables. Then they passed the trio by and disappeared into the castle.
“Rude bunch,” Malik said.
“They’re vampires,” was all Altair said and he saw Malik wince.
They left the castle and Altair saw the dull color of a false dawn on the horizon. They couldn’t be out here too long. Malik led them around the drive to the stables. In the large stables were normal horses and in a paddock outside were Malik’s four zebras.
Desmond cried out when he saw the zebras and pulled on Altair’s hand but Altair only walked a little faster.
They got to the fence and Altair picked Desmond to put him on top of the fence to sit, holding onto the boy lightly so he didn’t fall. “Just be ready to grab him,” Malik said.
“Why?”
“Zebras can be... aggressive,” Malik said even as he climbed over the fence. Yes. Just say that and walk off like it didn’t shoot worry all through Altair instantly.
He didn’t know what Malik was doing but he did start leading a zebra over by a halter. The creature seemed lethargic. Not a shock. It was late and it had probably been just woken up. “Here we go, young master, a zebra,” Malik said, presenting the zebra before Desmond. “I believe this one’s name is Qaseem.”
“Horsie,” Desmond said and reached out to pet the front of its nose. The zebra allowed it, its eyes lidded and sleepy. “Pretty,” he said.
“Yes. They are, aren’t they,” Malik said. “They’re from my country, far to the south of here. Only vampires keep them.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re a pain to train, and breed, and maintain,” Malik said and Desmond just stared at him, not understanding. “Because humans don’t like them,” he said instead.
“Ooooh.” That Desmond understood.
Malik let Desmond pet Qaseem for a little bit before Altair said, “The sun will be up soon. We should go back inside.”
“No. Horsie,” Desmond whined.
“We can see the horsie tomorrow night too. But the sun is coming. We don’t like the sun, right?”
Desmond looked torn. “Sun bad,” he finally agreed.
Altair helped Desmond down from the fence once he gave Qaseem one last pet on the head. Malik released the zebra to go back and join the others of the little herd. He climbed over the fence and joined them on the right side. “See zeebas again?”
“Yes, of course,” Malik said.
“Yay! Altear, hungry,” he proclaimed.
“Yes. I’m sure,” Altair said.
---------
Hey you, yeah, if you liked it, consider reblogging. It helps me a lot. Maybe leave something nice in the tags idk.
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Roommates Part 2
Tags/warnings: Deku x Reader, Deku x Self-insert, Slowburn, SFW, Aged-Up Characters, Roommates AU, Pro Hero Deku, Deku thirst. Other characters to be added in future parts including OCs.
Summary: Riida gets an idea over Deku’s eating habits. Also pizza. Word count: 1959
A/N: Thanks to everyone who read Part 1 :) Here’s Part 2, enjoy! Part 3 is out on my Patreon 🎉
====
Your room was your haven to be free to express yourself. And by expressing yourself that really meant expressing your love for Deku in every corner possible. You had a shelf full of his figurines. The walls were covered in his posters. Your bed covers had his face on. Your deku hug pillow took up one half of your bed along with all the chibi Deku cushions and plushies. And, of course, you had a few Deku hoodies, sweaters, scarves and socks in the closet, not to mention all the Deku charms adorning your Deku bag. You even had a pair of Deku undies stuffed in the back of your drawer which your friends jokingly gifted you for your birthday and which you deliberately chose to forget about.
In short, you were a massive fan of the pro hero. Your love for him extended into the online world where you were a top member of his fanclub and often enjoyed seeing any news about him. The fanclub was the reason for your private collection of images and videos of him in your hard drive and phone. You were often teased for your Deku passion but you didn't really care. What you felt for him was simply admiration as a fan.
So then why, for the past few days, have you been so nervous, and why, on this morning, were you hiding around the corner from where Deku was doing his morning workout?
The answer was this - he was topless yet again but this time he was doing handstand press ups. When you came to the doorway, you were met with a full frontal assault of his back, rippling with glorious muscles. It took everything in you not to scream.
So you dove round the corner to gather yourself, feeling like some higher being was testing you. Your entire face was burning, your chest was palpitating. You never thought in a million years that you would become this way around your favourite hero. Sure, you had imagined meeting him at a signing event or something, but those were very casual and very quick to get it done and over with. There wouldn't be time to feel anything other than a short burst of joy at meeting your idol. Not to mention he'd be fully clothed too and not half as hormone-inducing.
You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down before emerging into the kitchen.
"Hey," Deku's eyes lit up when he noticed you, pausing his workout for a moment, "I put the kettle on just before so it should still be hot."
"Oh, okay. Thanks."
You ate your breakfast in silence purposely avoiding Deku's sweaty physique, lest you risk giving yourself heart palpitations. He was very dedicated to the cause though. You wondered about his morning habits.
"How early do you get up to do your workout?" you decided to ask him.
"Pretty early!" said Deku, perking up at being asked a question by you. "Around 5am? Sometimes 5.30 if I want a bit of a lie in."
You raised your eyebrows. You couldn't help but be impressed. "Do you work out everyday?"
"Yeah. Except Sundays. They're my days off. It's bad to overwork your body. But I like doing them because it clears my mind for the day ahead."
"I see. Being a pro hero must be quite stressful."
"Not more than any other job, I imagine."
You had your doubts that a pro hero went through the same stresses as someone with an office job but you let it slide.
"What made you choose to live here?" you asked.
"Simple, really. One, I like the space where I can do my daily workouts. And two, it's in a secluded location where I can afford to get some privacy.”
You found you agreed with his reasonings. The apartment was very spacious given the okay price of the rent and it was out-of-the-way from more popular areas. You personally liked it because it meant quiet nights and humble surroundings.
“Oh, by the way,” continued Deku, “don't tell anyone I live here. The landlady knows and she's signed a confidentiality contract. So yeah, if you were thinking of bringing a boyfriend over or-- just let me know and I’ll stay out of the way."
"I don't have a boyfriend," you corrected him.
"Really?? But, you're so pretty. I thought you would have one for sure."
You almost spat out your food, suddenly hit by that bombshell out of nowhere. It was fortunate Deku had his back to you. Your face was burning red hot and there was no way you could face him at the moment. You decided to steer the conversation another way, clearing your throat, "Would I need to sign a confidentiality contract too?"
"Huh? Oh, er, maybe. I'll talk to my agent about it."
Deku finished his reps and hit the shower.
And you went to work with your face almost permanently red for the whole day any time you thought about his pretty compliment. And you thought about it pretty often.
---
Deku installed a pull-up bar the next morning. He had a black sleeveless top on this time but that did nothing to detract from his bulging arms. Furthermore, he looked good in black. Not that you hadn't seen pictures of him in black before, but combined with pull-ups and it was a knockout sight.
You stuttered as you greeted him good morning.
"Good morning!" Deku greeted back jovially. "What's for breakfast today?"
"Toast. And jam," you replied, deliberately opening your fridge.
"And drink?"
"Just a glass of milk."
"You're always so healthy in your meals," appraised Deku warmly.
"I try," you shrugged, "but sometimes I can't resist a ramen cup or a pizza takeout."
"I get you," said Deku, in a way that was like he was proverbially nodding his head, "nothing like a good pizza to satisfy a craving."
You were spreading jam on your toast when Deku suddenly said, "Hey, I know - let's have pizza tonight!"
"P-pizza?"
"I've been craving it lately and then you happened to mention it. Perfect timing, right? How about it?"
And that was how you ended up sharing two large pizzas with the No.1 Hero several hours later after he got back from work. He even went the extra mile and got dessert and cola too.
You enjoyed your pizza, savouring the taste. Next to you, it seemed Deku was enjoying a whole lot more, cramming it all into his mouth like no tomorrow.
"This is so good," said Deku with his mouth full.
"Mm, yes," you agreed, finishing a slice.
"I haven't eaten since 10."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah," Deku wolfed down two slices in one go. "Was busy with a train incident."
You recalled seeing on the news how a villain group boarded a running freight train, wanting to take the cargo for themselves. Deku managed to stop the group in their tracks with the help of a few pro heroes. The whole thing caused a mess for many passenger trains though and services became delayed. Deku and the other heroes had to sort out the chaos working together with the authorities.
You stared at Deku, asking out of concern, "Do you often skip lunch?"
"I mean, yeah. I'm pretty busy with stuff. It's not just the patrol stuff, there's also all the paperwork and side gigs too. But that's why I like to go all out when it comes to dinner--" He finished his entire 18" diameter pizza by himself in five minutes flat. You watched as he downed a two-litre bottle of cola in one sitting too. A trail escaped from the corner of his mouth and slid down his throat, bobbing over his adam's apple. You quickly turned back to your pizza feeling warm all of a sudden. It was probably the jalapenos, you told yourself.
"Hey, do you mind if I have an extra slice?" Deku eyed your pizza box which was still two-thirds full.
"Sure, have as many as you want. I won't be able to eat all that anyway."
"Really?? Thanks so much!"
Deku gorged himself generously on your leftovers. You had to wonder, if he was skipping meals, was he really holding up the best he can? "It seems bad that you're skipping meals as a pro hero, to be honest," you admitted out loud.
Deku nodded somberly, "I know but I can't turn my back on those who need help to go and fill my stomach.”
You personally disagreed with the pro hero. No job was worth risking your own health, even one as well spotlit as his. You were sure other fans would agree, some even commenting their observations on how Deku was looking on the thinner side lately. A little idea started to form in your head which you would check out the next day.
---
The Deku Fanclub forums were lively as usual this evening with all the banter and discussions surrounding the hero himself. There were some truly diehard fans, bordering on obsessive stalker-ness, who provided endless entertainment and 'exclusive' pictures of the green-haired man out and about. Sometimes they got him on his way to the gym. Sometimes he was caught in action. Sometimes it was a shot focusing heavily on his butt. And that wasn't even the worst of it, but you were there for something else.
You clicked on one thread which caught your eye. It was about Deku's eating habits. Many theorised and agreed that he was eating at least three meals a day and snacking on lots of fruits and protein bars in between. One Deku Diehard (it was its own label for the extremely dedicated Deku fan), however, put together an entire hypothetical itinerary of Deku's schedule for the past several days and proposed that he wasn't getting the recommended three meals a day because there simply wasn't time.
You found a reply to this comment that talked about what Deku should be eating in order to attain, and maintain, his good form. Lots of talk about protein and carbs. A chicken breast here, a salmon fillet there, a scattering of beans throughout, and some tasty meal plans. You bookmarked the meal plans.
That evening you cooked too much for lunch, enough for two people. The next morning you took out the extra portion and sat it on the counter, mentally rehearsing what you were going to say as Deku worked out in front of you. This time he was doing one-armed pull-ups, which wasn’t entirely helping your cause to pass this off casually but you had to remain focused.
"Um, Deku," you uttered nervously. "Last night I made too much food for myself, and I was wondering… W-would you like the extra portion? Not that you have to accept or anything--"
Deku dropped from the bar and said, "Really, you would give me your extra food??"
He leapt over to the counter in excitement, picking up the container. "Chicken and potatoes. No wonder it smelt so good in the kitchen last night!" He grinned widely, then with a knowing look, "It's because I said I skipped lunch yesterday, isn't it?"
"Um, well…"
You were seen right through by Deku. You didn’t think he would remember but here he was, smiling at you, eyes crinkling in gratitude. "You didn't have to do that for me. I really appreciate it though. This way I won't skip a meal. I can't let your hard work go to waste so I promise to finish every last bit!"
You gave a shaky smile back, hoping it wouldn’t taste too terrible to him. You were not the greatest cook but you at least wanted to try your best for the hero you admire.
====
A/N: A longer part this time but I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know in the comments your thoughts :D
#dragonpigeonswrites#roommates fic#deku x reader#deku x riida#deku x self insert#also sorry i was menna post this yesterday but got distracted#man i would love to share a pizza with deku huhu#also omg i WISH my room was like riida's#i need every deku merch covering every inch of my room possible#this part is less thirsty than part 1 but i hope it's still enjoyable!#edit: waaaaah i forgot the keep reading thing. i stuck it in!#sorry for the long wall text if you saw it slketjskts
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Saint’s Bones
Genre: adventure-fantasy, original wlw
Words: 6K
Summary: A young woman sets out on a journey when her brother brings home a holy relic from war. He says that the saint’s bone will bring wealth to the village and bless the family.
Sabine isn’t so sure, instead, she sets out to return to the saint’s remains to her resting place and stop any specter’s from haunting them. She encounters a shield maiden bent on helping her and more challenges than she expected
saint’s and pagans collide in the shifting times between ghosts and prayers
PART I ~ PART II ~ PART III
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PART I
It was 3 in the afternoon, the day was marked by drowsy spring heat and feet sloshing through puddles and mud to get to market in the early morning. Sabine was sitting by her half-finished mending and tuning out her mother’s gossip with the village grannies.
They were planning a roast for dinner, meat had been cheap since the roosters came to proper weight. Sabine’s boots were drying by the door and the sound of running children filled the streets outside, calling voices and shouts erupted but Sabine thought nothing of it.
A knock came at the door, it was a soft thing followed by a rough shouldering of the wood. Light flooded into the dim first story as the door creaked and Sabine perked up.
A solid figure stood in the entrance way with the sun to his back, casting a long shadow as he stooped to come in, he was broad and well-built, almost immediately filling the whole space. Sabine flew to her feet along with her mother and her two friends.
She rushed forward, it felt like flying, a young man stood in front of her with the ghost of a beard and close-cropped brown hair. His cheeks were still round with youth, but his posture was deceivingly straight, a thing of cast iron and steel. His eyes were slightly sunken and he had somehow managed to get more stocky even after months on the march.
His eyes swept the room and a haggered smile stretches across his face, a tangible exhale left his body and Sabine threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug.
“Luca.” Her voice spilled out her throat, sloppy and watery.
Her mom followed in after and they stood in the door for a long silent moment.
Her brother returned home.
---------------
For as long as Sabine could remember it had been her brother, her mom, her dad, her sister and her. Her sister Gianna had been the first change, as the eldest she was married quickly to a tanner’s son who was luckily around the same age.
The couple moved in with the family after their father dained to take Gianna’s husband on as an apprentice potter- a much better occupation than tanner. The house soon filled again with their two children and the clatter of young feet.
The second shift of Sabine’s young life was the call to arms of all the young men, her father was excluded thanks to a bum knee but their brother was more than happy to heed the call. It was a good way to move above his station- and maybe gain some glory along the way.
That is when little Angelo joined them as well, barely a babe at the time, their house was now more than full.
The village emptied out to heed the holy cause and retake the city of Jade. Three long years passed, Sabine was too busy to court and too plain to attract suitors, there were not enough men for it anyway.
She was 25 by the time her brother arrived home and Sabine could not have been happier, her life order had come back together again: father, mother, sister, brother, and her.
She hadn’t expected to sit and watch her brother’s shifty eyes as they fed him dinner that night. Luca had kissed his mother on both cheeks, greeted the village woman, and joked about Sabine growing almost as broad as him. He then excused himself, asking to be shown to his old room.
It was now shared with the twins, but Luca was asleep before the kids could bother him or Sabine could fetch him any water.
The women sat in the kitchen and glance at each other as he slept, Anna spoke first, “I knew the men were coming back.” She crowed, “felt in my bones.” “The king sent them back to help with harvest this year,” her mother grinned, ever the practical one.
“You are lucky Sara,” the oldest of them, grandma Sofia spoke up, “your son has returned to you in one piece.” Her mother nodded, “Thank the grace of god.” They all did a cross in the air and Sabine followed along.
“Do you think they’ll be called back again?” She wondered out loud.
The women shrugged and got back to their mending and dinner preparations.
-----------------
Luca didn’t make it to dinner that night, but they prepared an extra place setting nonetheless and buzzed around the table.
“Is he really back?” Angelo bounced in place, “Did he bring his sword?” “I’m sure they return the sword,” her father said kindly, but he also looked like an excited kid, a sparkle in his aging blue eyes.
Sabine chewed carefully and wiped at little Laura’s face as they ate.
“Let us give grace,” her sister Gianna gave a pale smile, she was most the devout of the family, especially as her body waned to a slip of a shadow. She sat with her hair limp and a shawl draped across her thin shoulders. “To give thanks for the safe return of our brother.” They held hands, bowed their heads, and Sabine gave a quiet salient prayer: you heard me. Her lips moved as no sound came out, we are not forgotten, I will remember this.
They ate in a racus of questions and bread-passing, trying not to let the dog get underfoot for scraps for at least five minutes. Sabine wrapped some extra bread in her skirts for later and smiles out.
-----------
It wasn’t until late in the night when the embers of the hearth had grown low and charred that footsteps came at the stairs. Sabine was still finishing the mending of Angelo’s jacket, her mind being elsewhere all day.
Steps clunked on wooden stairs and Sabine recognized them instantly, her brother came down and smiled wearily. “Anything left?” She swept to her feet and gestured him over, “mother left a whole plate out.” She called for her mom to fetch the last plate, she insists they all sit together for a moment.
Luca tore into a coolled bread roll, descreting it with his canines as they looked on. He only looked up once.
“I see no one’s fixed the old hinges on the upstairs door,” he gave a lopsided grin, “how long has it been, mom? Surely you didn’t just leave it all for me to do.” Her mother lifted her chin, “barely enough hands around here to fix the leak in the roof,” she tutted and Luca laughed.
“No, no, I’m so glad nothing has changed,” he laughed again. He turned, “speaking of which, how is my doting younger sister?” Sabine sniffed, “perfectly the same.” She nodded curtly, “this dress is surely from three years ago as well.” Luca was still smiling, but he looked her over from head to foot, “it’s been awhile, let me guess your age now, Sabine.” She raised her eyebrows, “we are 9 months apart, have you forgotten your own age as well?” “Perfectly so,” he gave a willowy chuckle, “now I see, 40, perhaps 55! She does well with a handkerchief.” Sabine tugged at her white handkerchief tied around her hair, as plain her brown dress. “An old man returns to an ancient sister then, we’ll have to support our spritely mother together.” Their mother scoffed, in her younger years she might have boxed them both in the ears for that, but it was a late spring night and her children were reuniting.
“You’ve raised an old maid mother,” Luca turned to their mother, “I thought I’d miss my little sister’s wedding by now.” Their mother squared her jaw and passed him another roll to go with his meat, “not enough hands Luca, not enough hands, you think all the men leave and we have time to spare for preparing a dowry?” She snorts, “You’ve become fanciful!”
He sits up straight and toasts the air, “Always!” He cheers and reaches for his mead glass, it was hard for Sabine not to smile as well. “Well, I’ll look for one yet.” He winks and Sabine wags her finger.
“You first brother,” they both laugh and settle into finishing the night, it would be quiet reunion, too long in the coming.
Sabine was finally polishing off her mending when a series of long wet hacking coughs come from upstairs. Her mind’s eye is filled by the visceral vision of sisters bent body as she was racked by air sickness.
Her brother looked grimly at the ceiling as it took several minutes to pass, Sabine and her mother look away politely from the noise as they always did.
Luca is the only one to speak up, “I suppose some things do change.” He says bitterly to the thin air, “How long?” Her mother busies herself sweeping the spotless hearth, it was nothing but embers at this point. “Your sister has always had a weak constitution.” She mutters, “She’ll recover from this one just as well as the ones before.” Sabine leaned in toward her brother, eyes wide, “Since the winter before.” She says quickly, “her weight has dropped by 3 stones each month since then.” Her mother shoots her a sharp betrayed look, Sabine doesn’t meet it, he should know.
Luca wears his smile thinly, “It’s good I’ve returned then.” Sabine’s face softens, “it would always be good for your return.” He hums and looks at the ceiling once more, “don’t think I came back empty handed from the war,” he says cryptically, “There will be something for Gianna and her old maid sister yet.” Sabine stands up, “you can solve all our problems by starting with the leak in the roof.” They always said she was just as practical as her mother. “Then everything else.” He stands up as well, “I’m glad to be back Sabine.” He kisses her on both cheeks again before she heads to bed, “Me too.” She says quietly and retreats, the household utters silent reaching prayers as Gianna begins to cough again.
Hear me one last time, she tries again on her knees, spare my family this as well.
That was the first night their dog barked at nothing and little Laura swore she saw something growing in the shadows.
------------------
The pots started to break.
Her father couldn’t explain it, he hadn’t changed his methods after all these years and the kiln seemed to be working perfectly fine. It started small at first, a single clay pot burst during the cooking, a few cracks and chips in the finished ones.
And then entire shelves fell, crashing in a violent carnage of sharp pieces and fine shattered designs. Their wares were very thin for that market day.
Pots cracked, Sabine tugged on her socks only to find them completely soaked through, mead grew sour before it even touched their lips, the dog barked. And barked.
They bent their heads and prayed soberly in church, Gianna visited twice a day after her daughter tripped in the halls and cried for hours. Laura mumbled about how there was nothing there, her shins hit something hard she couldn’t see and her legs tore up.
Sabine’s skin crawled.
She looked for more excuses to flee the house and wander the market streets or escape to the pastures outside of town. She could forage for dyes there that her father could use for paints, not to mention stare at the fluffy white clouds as they gathered and exhale for a quick second.
Luca fixed the leek in the roof and then the hinges on the doors, he floated in and out of his father’s pottery workshop. Their old father always promised to pull him into the business, he had no choice as the oldest son, but Luca had a way around his commands.
It was different now nonetheless, he did not flirt with the village girls- his tomcat days seemingly behind him, he prayed at church instead of exchanging pokes with Sabine as the sermon droned on. He paced the halls in the night and jumped violently whenever the young children brushed against him.
Francesca the old hound barked at him as well.
The days slipped past with cracked pots and the wails of something unseen. The ebbing fingers of spring started to let go and the summer storms blew in, battering the roof and filling the house with an anxious buzz. The kids were trapped inside, running around and getting underfoot. Sabine listened to the thunder boom outside and she pet the ears of Francesca as she whimpered.
“It’s alright girl,” she said quietly, the thunder gave a rolling boom and Sabine kept her eyes glued on the constant stream of rain. It’s oppressive weight choked the streets, dark violin strings connecting earth to the heavens, tied in thin ropes from sky to ground.
The patter on the roof was deafening, “Sabine,” her father called, voice barely audible, “fetch the others, we’ll have an early supper.” Sabine looks over her shoulder and nods, the eyes of the house were quick and darkened, it was another week of breaking pots and odd noises in the night. Sabine quickly stands and calls for her two small cousins and young Angelo, gathering them up so their grandmother could tell them stories.
Gianna was already at the table and her husband was still busy in the pottery, trying to finish up a few more plates despite the dampness thick in the air.
Sabine climbed to the second story, “Luca.” The halls were dark despite the sun not having set yet, dark and filled with the sound of drenching rain outside. “Stew is ready.” She huffed as she heard nothing in reply, “didn’t you say you were over storms like this?” She muttered, remembering how he used to huddle by the hearth during every storm years ago.
She knocked on the door, rapping her knuckles firmly and tapping her foot. “Luca, I promise getting something warm in you will help, come downstairs.” She opens the door thoughtlessly and only pauses as she sees someone huddling under the blankets, face stricken. “Luca?” He was cradling something in his hands and muttering aloud, Sabine recognized the words from church, a glottal gibberish of latin.
She strides toward him, his eyes are wide and unseeing, he clutches something bleached white and perfectly smooth to his chest. “Are you alright?” She asks tentatively and goes to rub his shoulders, “Luca, it’s only a storm, we’re safe here.” Luca snaps back into focus from her barest touch, gaze wild and red hot, he bolts upright and grabs Sabine’s wrist in an iron grip.
He looks confused for a moment, “Sabine?” Sabine doesn’t flinch and her eyes travel down instead, “What is that in your hand?” She makes out the end of a lumpy rod, her stomach turned as she recognized it.
“Nothing,” Luca swung out of bed, “What were you saying?”
Her eyes hollow out as she stares at the white bone, Luca pulls his blankets up and the thing disappears, he gives her a hard look. Sabine rights herself. “Supper,” she says clippedly, “we’re having stew.” Luca just nods and hurries her out of the room, face still pale as lightning bolts. He joked about building the next great arc in all this. Sabine floats out of the room alongside him, but her eyes drag back to his bed.
What are you hiding?
------------
Sabine takes two more days to confront him. Three more pots had broken and meal worms had gotten into their grain. Angelo complained of a dream where the shadows came alive and chased him toward the well and down into the dark waters.
Gianna’s lips were tight and eyes hard as she listened to the young boy, “such dreams are normal.” She said faintly and gave a shallow smile, “We’ve all been having dreams I’m sure. It’s just the heavy rains.” Sabine’s swallowed thickly and looked back up at the ceiling, it took her another day to form the right words.
The storms had finally let up by then and she offered to walk with her brother to a nearby farm that gave them extra milk if they smiled well enough. Sabine waited until they it to the edge of town to glance over at her brother and catch his eye.
“Luca,” she started off slowly, “I had something I wanted to… say.” She knew she sounded overly careful, suspicious even, but it was hard to ignore the red of his eyes or shadow of an unkempt beard.
Luca smiled less after these long days, he paced more.
He took a moment to hold her gaze, “I don’t suppose you’d liked to discuss Andrea?” He grinned, “We served together. He’s been asking about you.” Sabine took a deep breath, “I doubt that.” She said curtly. “And I don’t have time.”
“Time? No time like the present! Looks fade little sister,” he clucked, “you might especially be careful.” Sabine rolled her eyes, she had never been considered beautiful, even she knew that and her brother’s teasing didn’t help. “There’s not much to fade.” She said with a finger wag.
She knew she had thick arms and a lumpy form, her jaw was too square and her walk too graceless. Her hair was as coarse as a horses mane and hands thick and hard from years of work.
They said she had a brutish air, Luca used to needle her with the fact, but he seemed to have softened or at least changed his tune. “All the better for sooner then!” He crowed and poked her sides, “I could convince mother to really start looking.” “Luca,” she said sternly, “What were you holding the night of the storm?” Luca visibly deflated, “You always did like to dwell on unpleasant things.” He gave a deep sigh. Sabine stopped in place, forcing Luca to pause, the field around them is quiet and empty but for the rolling green grass. “Was that a bone?” She narrowed her eyes, “What have you done?” Luca put both hands up, “Peace sister, it’s not what you think.” She almost snarled, “You go off to war and come back with bones? I’ve heard it’s hard to let go of wars but this is-” “Didn’t I just say it’s not what you think?” He snapped and then drew a deep breath, Luca looked in both directions, glancing left and right as if checking for something, “Fine. You’ve corned me on this, I hope you’re happy... I’ll let you in on a secret little sister.” Sabine just crossed her arms over her chest, “Am I going to like it?” She asks warily.
He shrugs back, “it’s for all of us. So you should.” She leaned forward, “I’m listening.” Luca leaned in close, eyes holding hers like sunbeams, drowning in the wide deep. “Have you heard of Saint Ghita?” Sabine raised her eyebrows and stood up straight, “I’ve heard of her.” Sabine wracked her brain for details, revisiting mass and all the various lectures. Saint of boats? Bees? Sword play? She couldn’t remember.
Luca waved his hand in the air, “Saint of sieges, plagues, and devout protection.” He winked, “and sometimes soup.”
Sabine stuck her bottom lip out, “Did we stop for a liturgy?”
He shook his head, “She was buried in the holy city,” Sabine lifted her chin, focusing completely on him. Luca hadn’t talked about the war yet. “I saw her… when we reclaimed the City of Jade.” He said that part warmly, though there was a bite of darkness behind his eyes. “It took weeks, starving, patrolling, huddling in the cold and mud with nothing but… well, it wasn’t easy.”
Sabine felt slightly sick, “What happened?” Luca doesn’t meet her eye, “We hadn’t been paid in weeks. Barely fed either since the supply line was coming up short.” He looks toward the sky, “the commanders told us to take our fill of the city, take whatever we could as backpay.” Sabine eyes go wide in horror, “brother…” Her voice cold with warning.
“Don’t give me that look,” Luca bunched up into himself, “I didn’t do anything bad,” He paused “nothing the others weren’t doing.” He scowled at her and it seemed to burn. Sabine glanced at the satchel by Luca’s side, “and the bone?” Luca’s face lit up, “Oh! This will make the village rich Sabine!” He said excitedly, “It will draw pilgrims and wealth once I give it to our church, just you wait. A real relic.” Her stomach flips at the word ‘real relic.’ She shakes her head, “It’s someone’s bones.” She says darkly, “This can only bring ill fortune. You know the stories.” Do not unearth the dead.
Luca squared his shoulders and turned, “This will bring our family a great blessing,” he started to walk away, “You always were a small thinker. You’ll see, put your suspicions away, it’s time to start living Sabine, not just surviving.” He kept walking.
Sabine stood there for another few shocked seconds, he really has changed.
-----------
Sabine tried to reason with Luca that night, after the children had gone to bed and it was just them, sitting quietly in the heart of the house while the family slept. It seemed neither of them were sleeping well by then.
She let’s the silence settle as she focuses her hands busily. It takes only a few minutes for her to find her tongue, “This won’t bring us blessings,” she said coldly, heart beating fast. He needs to listen, things are breaking, the dog is barking. “Spirits don’t rest if they’ve been moved.” Luca glanced over with a blank look, “Don’t you pay attention at mass?” He waved at her airily, “No spirits walk the earth like ghouls, you either go to heaven or hell- there is no lingering. Forget the old wives tales.” She bites her bottom lip, “stealing bones, how does that make sense to you?”
He huffed a sigh, “This is a relic. It’s holy, given to use by the grace of God so saints may continue to fortify us against evil.”
He seemed to be parroting something he heard, voice metalic and route.
“What happened to you out there?” Sabine asks lowly, face empty, and Luca just stands.
“I’m going to bed,” he doesn’t look behind him, “Don’t scare yourself with stories for children and old woman while I’m away.”
Sabine bolted to her feet, chair clattering backward, “I’ll tell-” “Will you? Who?” He met her eyes and Sabine suddenly felt no taller than a sapling. She shrinks and he just clicks his tongue, “Our church will be nothing but excited for this.”
Sabine hunched her shoulders over and glanced at the corners of the room, her body shuddered with something she couldn’t describe. There are things beyond the church, Luca.
--------
At Sunday mass Sabine carefully studied her shoes and let the words float in one ear and out the other. There was nothing between heaven and hell, spirits went one way or the other, the church said clearly and surely: your dead are gone from the mortal plane.
Sabine closed her eyes and took deep breaths, can I really let more pots be broken? More howling from dogs and scraped knees? Who knew how long a spirit would restrain itself, dread cramped down in her chest, veins running cold. More cold hungry winters lay in front of them, huddled down in front of the hearth and making thin soup last for days on end and gnawing on bread crusts. Who knew if the spirit would ignore her ailing sister then. Who knew how long until it all got worse.
Sabine waits for the end of the Liturgy of the Word. The prayers and repetition rang out as church drew to an end. Sabine bowed her head and let it wash over her like tepid water, draining down her shins toward the floor.
Sabine made an excuse and slipped to the side of the room, waiting.
People flocked to Father Michael for several long minutes after, asking for counsel or blessing for their new baby or for the now dead. They paid little mind to Sabine, she was just another face in the village, neither striking or noteworthy in all these years.
She belonged there the way scenery did: a painted tree on the background of a theatre piece. Sabine was used to it.
Father Michael waits for her, folding his hands in front of him and gesturing her forward as the aisles emptied, “Sabine Romano,” he says in his practiced weathered voice, “it’s a pleasure to see you.” She nodded, “I’m sorry I haven’t been to confession as of late.” She admits, feeling the guilt prickle in the back of her neck as she cleared that out of the air.
“Think nothing of it,” Father Michael waves a hand through the air, he was an old man at this point, back bent in overly large robes and sporting thick stark white hair. There were rumors he drank mead like water and feasted with a particular fevor, but those were rumors and Sabine had known Father Michael to be nothing but demure and slightly monotone.
She raises her head, “I was wondering,” she starts slowly, “Do you know of a Saint Ghita?” “Yes, of course,” he says slowly, “Saint of sieges and protection from malice and plagues.”
Sabine nodded as if she hadn’t just learned that 72 hours ago, “Yes…” Father Michael smiled, “A sudden interest in saints my child?” She nods again, “My brother was talking about her.” She says truthfully.
“Oh,” Father Michael nodded, “She was present in the holy city, yes, that’s where she earned her sainthood.” He crossed himself, “She supported the soldiers during the first great siege from the east. She refused to leave even as plague took hold within the walls and she tended the soldiers and the sick. She died in the final attack, bravely so.” Sabine nodded again, “So… she was buried in the city of Jade?” She asked tentatively, cringing at her own forwardness.
The priest cocked his head to the side, “Yes, I believe so.” He frowns deeply, “There is talk they have finally moved the remains to a safer location, foolish to keep them in such a violent place for so long.” He was still frowning, maybe he had heard about the grave robberies as well.
Sabine’s eyes go wide, she reaches out to grab the priests robes thoughtlessly, “Where?” There must have been some intensity in her gaze as the priest drew back.
“I do not know,” he looked her over. “Is there something you need to say my child?”
Sabine let go and just shook her head, pulling herself in again quickly. “Nothing, no,” she said quickly, “I was simply curious to know about the saint who might have protected my brother. I’ll pray to her.” That sounded reasonable enough. The priest nods, “Yes, the lord blesses us with his safe return, that is wise.” Sabine tries for a smile but it seems to peel away from her face with the effort, “thank you.” She gives a slight dip of her head and then excuses herself.
Saint Ghita, she keeps the name locked inside her head, have mercy.
I plan was forming in her mind, but she had no idea how wise it was.
--------------
Sabine pieced together the truth from snatches of conversation and barest of hints from visiting merchants and loose gossip. The summer passed in the grind of the harvest and sweating through her dresses under the unforgiving sun.
She tried to keep her distance from Luca, expecting him to pull away and for them dance around each other like rigid marionettes. But he was her brother, charming with bravado to spare, and perhaps he assumed she forgot easily. Sabine busies herself with the mystery of Saint Ghita and the question of where she was now.
Sabine followed the trail of breadcrumbs: visiting Sister Sara as she came down from the convent, ‘yes, the saint’s remains was moved to the north I heard, up and up.’
A passing silk merchant said he heard a procession of holy men carrying remains up the mountains to the corner of the country.
A priest in training from the neighboring village said his brother heard that a saint was moved to a neighboring county. That it was done in secret except for passing strangers as witness.
It wasn’t until the soft curl of the autumn leaves, just turning from green into a crisp red color, that Sabine learned all the she could. She was standing in a corner of the marketplace, head bent and the clamor of Sunday vending days bustling around her.
“Saint Ghita?” An old woman, stooped and squinting at nothing, said. She was examining ripe fruits as she stooped next to Sabine. “Did I hear you say Saint Ghita?”
Sabine stood up straight, she hadn’t been talking to the woman, but instead a traveling trinket merchant.
“Yes,” she said slowly, she didn’t recognize the woman, an old crone dressed all in black. “Saint of holy protections. Among other things.”
The woman barely turned toward her, “Yes, I know her.” She said bluntly, “A fine woman.” “Uh,” Sabine gave her a funny look, “I suppose so,” she said slowly, “Though I heard something odd recently, that the sacred ladies remains have been moved. Strange, don’t you think?” She tried to make it sound natural.
The crone snorted, “About time they did,” she grumbled angrily, “The City of Jade is no place for anyone holy.” Sabine scrunched her face up at that, it sounded wrong but she wasn’t one to start arguments. “So you know of her being moved?” Sabine pressed, a flicker of hope rising in her chest. “Would… you know where?” The lady in black just nodded, “But why would you want to know?” The women cracked her eyes open for the first time, they were milky white and crusted with yellow gunk.
Sabine forces herself to take a step forward, she speaks in a quick hush, “She is important to me.” She clutched her chest, “I wish to make a pilgrimage.”
The crone stomps her cane on the ground and starts walking through the crowd in the other direction, Sabine hesitates for a moment and then follows. “Please,” she tries again, “I have only good intentions.” The crone simply keeps walking, “You are a young thing,” she gripes lowly, “the open road is no place for a pilgrimage right now.” Sabine bit her lip, “So you do know! Please.” She takes money out of her pocket, “It’s for my family.” She relents. The woman stops and turns toward her, her milky white eyes fixed on the place just above Sabine, “you are certain?” She sniffs loudly, “There would be no turning back, no way home if you set out.” Sabine’s mouth goes dry and she flounders like a fish for a moment, she looks around to see if people are watching them or seeing the strange interaction. People mill around them, chattering and ignoring them.
Sabine thinks of the hacking cough of her sister and the dozens of broken pots. “I am certain.” She croaks, “I must go.” “You must want it too,” the crone shakes her head, “It is on the western path out of town. Towards the rising sun, you will know it once you start. The graveyard of Isaac will challenge you, you mustn’t ever lose heart.” “The graveyard of Isaac,” she repeats, though it meant nothing to her, “Thank you grandmother,” she dips into a sort of bow. “This means the world to me.” “Leave then, before the first tree is bare.
Sabine reaches to kiss her hand, but she hears the barest whisper of her name. “Sabine.” Sabine turns to look for the caller, but no one is there, when she turns back the crone is gone.
The market is filled with a sea of people, all brightly colored and unaware of the woman in black. Sabine suppresses a sharp shudder and turns to find her family again, this is for them, she reminds herself, I will not lose heart.
----------
When Sabine was a little girl and yet to settle into a reserved young woman who was more sensible than she was fanciful. She was an untamed child, all loose bones and quick feet, when it didn’t matter if she was beautiful or behaved or anything at all.
She was the youngest of three children (technically four, but her other sister had passed before Sabine was born) her old mother was less agile to keep her daughter from flitting around as she pleased. But Sabine also had help.
She vividly remembered one day she had stolen away honey cakes from the windowsill and stuffed them greedily into her mouth, smearing her mouth with honey. She brought the corner of the last one to her older brother. He was only around 9 months older, so she never felt the exact reverence for an elder sibling, but something tighter.
She slipped into the pottery, hot and sticky with the fires of the kiln, Luca was sitting on the bench looking annoyed. He had never wanted to be a potter.
“Tato,” Sabine hissed, using the nickname that their mother had endearingly given him before he grew tall. She thrust her hands out with the treat, “it’s still warm.” Luca raised his eyebrows and took a few steps toward her, “Bina,” he shook his head and looked down at her stolen bounty, he cracked a smile, “no rest for the wicked I see.” She just grinned and he took the honey cake quickly to finish munching on it. It was a second before they heard calling.
“Sabine!” Her mother called with a thunderous weight, “come here right now.” There was an unsaid threat under the words.
Luca glanced toward the high open window and then back to Sabine, he took her shoulder, “Run silly rabbit,” he moved to hoist her up so she could climb out, “Before the wolf eats you.” She scrambled to swing her legs up, “Will you be in trouble?” Her eyes were wide.
Luca shrugged, “I was always better with words than you.” He was grinning his easy smile.
Sabine had little time to reflect as clipped footsteps came lumbering down toward them. She gave a nod and pushed herself over the ledge and toward the dusty alley down below. Her knees shook from the impact, but she was off before a second, shooting off toward the end of the road and to wherever her feet could carry her.
When she returned at dusk, her brother had red ears, but gave her a cheeky thumbs up all the same, “Wild girl,” her mom tutted, but there was no helping it.
Sabine would grow, Luca would hoist her out windows and tell her to run out to the pastures when he couldn’t.
These images flash behind Sabine’s eyes as she stands over the lumpy form of her brother, tucked into the summer blankets and fingers twitching now and then. Her brother hadn’t been sleeping well, but perhaps luck was on her side tonight.
Sabine searched for just a brief moment before she sees the end of a blunt bone sticking out from under Luca’s pillow. That couldn’t be comfortable.
Sabine takes a deep breath, “there’s nothing for it.” She took another steadying breath, “No choice.” She didn’t sound confident even to her own ears, but the old crone was right: there was no turning back.
Before she could doubt herself any further, she nimbly grabs the end of the bone, glancing between her brothers shadowed face and end of the saint’s bone.
Sabine tugs as quick as a hare in fright, she tugs and carefully holds the pillow up so his head doesn’t jerk down. Her body freezes as she waits for a response, but perhaps the forces that be were working for her as well.
Luca turns in place, shifting unknowingly, but his features remaining tense and closed. Sabine turns on her heels and quietly bolts out of the room, bone in hand.
It was well before dawn, she had as many provisions as she could spare over the last few weeks and her good shoes. She had ‘borrowed’ her brother-in-laws sturdy pants and thick white shirt, pulling on a thick vest she bought and fastening it.
She was built wide and sturdy, it wasn’t a perfect look, but with a cloak tied around her throat and her hair fit neatly under a felt hat it would do the trick. Lone travels rarely faired well in the stories and talk, woman travelers even less.
Sabine secured the bone in a sack slung around one shoulder and neatly tucked it by her side, she touched it one last time, eye fixed on the dark hushed streets, readying herself. Don’t strike me down spirit, she begged the saint, you will be rested soon.
Sabine left a simple letter, she frowned at it the entire time. Her father had taught her to read, but she had never had any training in spelling or penmanship, every letter was an embarrassment.
‘I’ve gon to help the family, donot worry for me, love, Sabine. I will be bak.’
She couldn’t bare to read it over twice and slipped out the door, refusing to look back as she flew toward the roads and into the western sun.
There is no turning back.
She disappears with her heart in her throat and the only world she had ever known fading behind her.
-----
historical note: this is set in fantasy-Italy, but stealing the bones of saint’s was a real phenomena in medieval times and the catholic church really didn’t believe in ghosts since purgatory wasn’t a thing yet conceptually for them
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In a weird sleazy city, on an early November night, in an apartment slightly too small for hosting parties, there was a celebration being held. If one went up to the door, or looked in the window, one could see lights; a few candles, mostly electric, and hear the sounds of speech...
One could see faces talking about lives no longer amongst them, not solemnly but raucously, as the smell of chilli peppers and beans cooked in lard filled the air and sugar skulls adorned countertops. The host was unusual yes, a great muscular yellow-spined beast of a monster-woman by the handle of Body Shock. with the subtle crackle of electricity around her, but this was not a time where that was relevant.
This was a time for memories, as she roamed around the room, receiving and pushing forward wild antecdotes of days gone by, and music playing from several daisy-chained dollar-store speakers that she added a tune or so to the playlist when she heard someone mentioning a person gone by to them and their favorite song.
And all of this was around a great-small altar, built of brick and cardboard as high as the celling would let it go, and painted in bright colors, adorned with photographs and keepsakes and sugar skulls and candles, a fulcrum around which the party revolved.
And then, suddenly, it stopped. For, the door had creaked open and; into the room entered a woman. She carried an aura that brought a hush upon the crowd, a lean and deathly pallor of power despite the top of her hat barely reached to the shoulders of the next- shortest person in the room.
It was Boss McGlade, arch-criminal and enemy to Body Shock, and if her eyes were not already blood red, they would have turned such as Body Shock grabbed McGlade by the front of her shirt collar.
“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Shock said, in a voice b=vaguely approxiamting calm.
“Now, now,” said McGlade, flashing a shark-toothed; smug grin, “Is that any way to treat a guest? It would be gauche of you to disrupt this party with an assault on my person, as would it be gauche for me to commit any acts of assault against yourself in front of so many witnesses.”
Body Shock hoisted her higher “Nice fuckin try, but you still ain’t answered my question” One of the guests had gotten out a sword cane at this point.
“Simply put, because of your exact sort of response, and because I felt I could do so with few reprecussions, it would be of little benefit to yourself to call the authorities on a party in this neighborhood.”
Body Shock lowered her a bit. It’s fascinating how the two were united in their mutual distaste for cops, with reasonings that sometimes even matched up. “How the fuck do I know you ain’t here on some bullshit?”
“You would not believe me if I claimed I wasn’t. Plus, again, witnesses would be a means of disadvantage to us both, would they not?”
With that, Body Shock dropped her unceremoniously, with McGlade landing right on her own two feet with equal lack of pretense. “Alright, but I ain’t takin an eye off yas.”
“I would expect nothing less” said McGlade, as she went to get a plate.
The mood went back to celebration, albeit with nervous glances at the strange, blue-pallid woman who seemed only interested in a small cup of ginger-ale and a plate slathered in refried beans. But, her focus was on the altar, and the image at the top.
“Hm. Who is this man? You must find him of a great deal of importance for his position at this apex of your ofrenda.”
“Hey, it ain’t just mine, it’s the whole party’s altar. And if you’re lookin for hostages, you’re a few years too late. He’s gone.”
“An acquaintance of yours perhaps?”
“Fuck me, he’s my grandpa, ! Only motherfucker in the whole fuckin family who was ever nice to me! Like, when I was a kid, my parents bought a rabbit, said they’d got me a pet. I was so happy to see that lil’ fucker, Trucker I named ‘em. Month later, turns out it was fattenin’ him up for meat! And they laughed n laughed when I had the stew n I asked where Trucker was”.
“While outside my context, I would presume that seems hideous behavior.”
“I cried for a whole day! But abuelo, he was over there for dinner that night, didn’t know until they told him about 'em, convinced 'em to give him the bones n what was left of the skin for a lil funeral; in a shoebox. He even held a lil ceremony, n kept the foot on a necklace for me to keep,”
Body Shock pointed up at the apex of the Ofrenda, and there was an old; shriveled rabbit’s foot by the portrait of the old man “I still remember the vacant lot it was in…”
Body Shock sighed and put her head down “We were the only ones left there that weren’t trainwrecks or complete motherfuckers. He tried to make sure I got what he had when he left, but the parents weaseled a way to get it for their 'business.’ Like, you heard o the Necro-Narco epidemic?”
“I am vaguely familiar” said McGlade, lying only in that she was in fact extremely familiar with its various fallouts.
“Yeah, that was part o what they did. But hey,” Body Shock said, perking up immediately “they’re probably in a fuckin ditch somewhere, let 'em be forgotten!” She held up a drink and shouted, “A toast to abuelo, wherever the fuck he is right now!”
Glasses were raised, a toast was shouted, and Boss McGlade was suddenly looking down. If there was a vulnerable expression on her face, nobody but her could see it under her wide-brimmed hat and downturned look. Her hands were in her pockets.
“So, whattabout you Doc?” Body Shock responded “Got any loved ones you wanna offer to, some fuckbuddy got whacked by the mob; some dead ma who you wanna avenge or whatever people like y-”
She stopped as McGlade dug something out of her pocket. There was a slight snap of electricity amongst the silence of the audience, only for it to dissipate once everyone saw what it was. A small plastic figurine of what looked like a toy soldier, but with a broken egg with bat wings for an upper body.
She placed it upon the table next to an old; drippy candle, and dug out and placed a sugar skull next to it from her pockets, one of many she had pettily knicked for later consumption. She breathed in a deep sigh, and one could see her hair do a slight bristle as she began to speak:
“I am not at liberty to discuss the further detailings of this event, but I will state that I spent most of my younger life in a series of cruel and abhorrent laboratories, a child treated as simply a prisoner, a child lab-rat. There were others in that lab, and the one I remember most…”
She paused for a moment. “Her name was Susan.”
A few guests could swear they saw tears run down from her eyes. “That wasn’t the name they gave her, but she said she liked it instead of that number they gave us. She was my age, maybe a few months older. She was the only person who was a friend there to me, she shielded me from the punishments for when I had to sneak a scrap of food to not starve from the experiments.”
There were most definitely tears running down from her eyes now. “She used to smuggle in comics and these little figures from this collection. This was one of the ones she didn’t have before she, before she…”
McGlade breathed out a shuddering breath, “I don’t know if she’s even dead. They never found the body. We were going to get married, if we ever got out, we promised each other…”
Body Shock said nothing and walked over. She picked up the figurine, off the table, and placed it right at the top, next to the image of her grandfather.
“Hey, now,” Body Shock sad awkwardly. She wasn’t particularly equipped to deal with her own emotions, no less those of others. “Why don’t we put 'em up top? Seem fitting, like, thematically, yanno?”
Then, transitioning away from that awkwardness, she raised her glass. “A TOAST, TO SUSAN!”
There was a cheer, and a raising of glasses from the other participants and then’; at once; a raised glass from McGlade.
And so, in a weird sleazy city on an early Novermber night, a truce was called for this night alone. It may at first seem strange to call a truce on a holiday of the dead, but the dead never truly die if they are remembered. And, through kindness’ hands, memories work, and the dead may walk again, if but for one night…
So yeah! A more ambitious character piece, to celebrate the true meaning of Day Of The Dead!
As per usual, this drabble is under a CC-BY-SA license for direct adaptation, but all the characters/concepts/settings/ect are free to use as you see fit under a CC-BY-Vanilla license so long as I; Thomas F. Johnson, am credited as their creator!
And, if you wanna support me, maybe check out my Patreon, or even just send a Ko-Fi my way! Every penny is appreciated, and I am eternally grateful for those who donate!
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TRANSLATION V. 3.0 UPDATE #3: The unpleasant Dedan PART 1
Hello! RecDra here with another monthly translation update.
This is an updated version of the same update post on my Patreon. It includes changes my patrons have proposed. If you would like to get updates early, have first say on certain changes, benefit from other perks and goodies, or just plain support your local OFF translator, you can pledge to me there!
Also, Tumblr resized the images in this post, so to see them in full, make sure to view the image, and then replace “500″ with “1280″ in the URL.
If there are any changes you don’t agree with, or any suggestions, just head over to my ask box and drop them in there!
Dedan is a beloved character in the fandom; people really latched onto his frequent swearing and disregard for his employees. I want to be proud of portraying him as a villain you love to hate, however, when I first prepared myself to commence work on version 3.0 and read through zone 1 again, I had to recognise that, perhaps, my original translation of his dialogue created a character that was not true to the original text.
He doesn't swear as much, and he really is a lot more eloquent than I initially gave him credit for. The aim now is to make him into an impolite aristocrat, who becomes progressively more angry and foul-mouthed.
Let’s take a look:
Please note that some of the Elsen’s dialogue has been cut out due to there being no changes to it.
Dedan shows his lack of confidence in his employees.
First row: First thing of note: Dedan impolitely refers to his employees with the informal "you", "tu". "tais-toi" basically means "shut up", but it can also be translated as "be quiet".
As for "pauvre connard" - my old translation was wrong. “connard” is most accurately translated as “bastard”, and “poor” has been changed to “pitiful” to better convey Dedan’s contempt. (this change was proposed by a Patron)
Second row: Version 2.0 was not necessarily mistranslated here; after all, both versions basically convey the original text's meaning. However, I reworked the line to correspond exactly to what's being said.
Third row: Here, I wanted to give the sense that Dedan was talking fast and furious, interrupting his employee; that being the reason I removed the period and replaced it with a comma. I'm still unsure on the way the text flows in the new version, however, so feedback on punctuation changes would be very welcome.
Dedan doubts the Batter's abilities.
First row: Again, version 2.0 wasn't necessarily false; the new version is just slightly more accurate to the original meaning.
Second row: "détruire" translates to "eliminate" or "destroy"; it was changed to the latter so Dedan picks up on the employee’s word afterwards. (this change was proposed by a patron)
Third row: "en quoi" can translate to "what" or "how", depending on the question it is used in; as such, the new translation is more accurate to the original text. I also decided on using the more complex "think himself", to convey the sense that Dedan is an impolite aristocrat. An alternate translation would read "And what makes him think he's capable of destroying those stupid phantoms?"
First row: Again, a period has been replaced with a comma here to give the sense that a single string of words if coming out of Dedan's mouth. "he thinks himself better than you" is also a more elegant, albeit equally sound, translation of the original "il se croit meilleur que vous".
Second row: No changes.
Third row: This one is a more liberal translation of the original text; version 2.0 was actually more accurate in this case, but “I didn’t ask for your opinion” sounds more fitting to an angry supervisor snapping at his employees.
Dedan vents about the stupidity of his employees.
First row: This is a more accurate translation of the original text, and is in keeping with Dedan's new personality.
Second row: In version 3.0, Dedan alternates between using apostrophes depending on the urgency of what he is saying, and his level of annoyance. He does not use them if he is making his point precisely and directly.
Third row: "at any case" is simply bad English, so I changed it to the proper construct. "ca" can be translated as either "this" or "that".
First row: The word "prig" in the original translation has been the bane of my existence for years; that word is so antiquated that barely any of the players of this game knew what it was supposed to convey. This has now been rectified, in keeping with Dedan's new personality.
Second row: The addition of the word "succeed" in the original build was my proofreader Isaiah's idea; it has been cut off in the new build to stay true to the original text, in which, as always, this Elsen was cut off by his supervisor.
Third row: No big changes here; "apart from" basically conveys the same meaning as "other than", but sounds more like the words used in the french text.
First row: Version 2.0 was a very, VERY liberal translation of what was being said in French. It also used unnecessary swearing that simply wasn't present in the original text.
The word "conneries" basically means "stupidities"; "faire des conneries" means "to do something stupid" or to "screw up". An alternate translation reads: “If only you listened to me more often, you wouldn’t keep acting stupid.”
Second row: No changes.
Third row: Again, no apostrophe here anymore; Dedan wants to make his point very clear.
No changes in these three lines; they were just included for completion's sake.
First row: "I’ll be” has been changed to “I’m” to better convey immediacy.
Second row: Same change as above. Additionally, Dedan's American accent has been removed for now, and along with it his use of words like "ain't". I am still thinking on that.
Third row: No changes.
First row: "au revoir" = "goodbye". It's that easy.
Second row: "piss off" is one of the fandom's favourite Dedan lines, but it wasn't a good translation: "hors de ma vue" translates literally to "out of my sight", and as such, the new wording is the more accurate one.
Third row: No changes.
Again, here I changed the tone of Dedan's dialogue quite heavily. "je te prie" means "please"; "I command you" would be something more along the lines of "je te commande". There is no use of the word "fuck" in the original text, however, "foutre le camp" is one of the most impolite ways in French to tell someone to go away. "out of my way" isn't a completely accurate translation, however it reflects that the Elsen is standing in Dedan's way, and moves out of it after he was told to. "job" has been changed to "position", being a more accurate translation of the french word "place" in this context.
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And that was that! I realise Dedan is very near and dear to everyone’s heart; however, before you jump on me for these changes, I ask you that you wait a few days for the next bit of Dedan’s dialogue to be posted to this blog. Trust me, the Dedan you know and love is not gone; he simply periodically loses his cool, rather than being born without any, as it was in the original text.
See you all soon!
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